


Operation: Summer's Wrath

by DragonbornCourier



Category: Tom Clancy's The Division
Genre: Division Team, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:15:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 22
Words: 23,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22562362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonbornCourier/pseuds/DragonbornCourier
Summary: With the capital in shambles, it is up to the Division to save it. Sometimes, that means giving yourself up, or finding out your true self. Follow Agent Sarah Collins as she trys to pick up the pieces of both her country, and herself.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. The Beginning, Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my new story. This is set in the Division universe, specifically Division 2.

The sun was just rising above the horizon. It was a cool day with a very slight breeze. A shot rang out in the distance followed by another and another. After checking that each of the hostiles were dead, Agent Sarah Collins, callsign “Stryker”, reloaded her marksman rifle.

“Agent, you’ve done enough today, get back to the White House and have some rest, you can't hog all the work after all, you'd make the rest of us look bad.” Manny Ortega radioed her.

“Copy, Stryker enroute.”

It was before noon when Stryker got back to Rallypoint Omaha, the designation for the White House. The gates opened for her and the automatic 50 Cal. M2 Browning Machine Guns recognized her SHD watch and deactivated. She went through the basement, quickly selling off all the items she had acquired in the last week. She decided to grab a bite to eat before resting. Sitting down in the mess hall, she quickly started eating her food. A disgusting-looking combination of off-brand canned meatloaf and what can only be described as pig shit.

“So you're Stryker. Never thought I'd get to meet ya.” Some random bloke said as he sat down across from her. She could tell he was Division though.

“And you are?”

“Agent Grant Bivins, callsign “Hemorrhage”.

“What wave?” Stryker was extremely cautious of any First Wave Division agent.

“Second, but then again, so are you.”

“I'm sorry, do I know you?”

“No. We’ve never met. But you're the agent that saved New York City right?”

“There was more than just me bud.” He was bringing memories back that she’d hoped would stay away.

“Of course! I can't forget, there were others too. Three if I believe.”

“Ya know, you're getting very creepy. And I don’t like that. Tell me where you got this information, and I'll consider not putting a knife through your neck, see how much you ‘Hemorrhage’ then.”

“Aggressive, I see your files were correct. That’s the answer to your question Stryker, I looked at your files. It is only logical to learn about your new partner.”

“Excuse me? I have not been assigned a new team.”

“Well Manny Ortega says different.”

“Does he now? Excuse me, I have someone I need to kill.”

Manny had been having a rough day. The overall situation in DC had improved, but the Outcasts and the True Sons were being major assholes today. He knew immediately that he was gonna have a worse day when he heard a commotion outside.

“Agent! Captain Ortega is busy. You can't go in there!”

“Oh is he? Well allow me to introduce myself!”

As soon as she stopped talking, the door to his office flew open and slammed against the walls. A very angry Stryker was walking right for him. _Goddamn it_.

“Agent Stryker, anything I can do for you today?”

“Shut the fuck up. Wanna tell me why I just met an agent saying that we’ve been assigned as partners?”

Manny knew that he had some explaining to do.

“Listen, I know you're not ready but unfortunately, time isn’t on our side or yours, I'm putting together teams to bring order to DC, I'm sorry but this is the way its gonna happen.”

“You should’ve warned me Manny. You know I don’t ‘play’ well with others.”

“I'm sorry, okay? Now rest up, I wasn’t kidding when I said we have more work ahead of us.”

* * *

The next morning, Stryker woke at the break of dawn and was preparing to leave Rallypoint Omaha, when Hemorrhage joined her.

“So where to first boss?”

“Listen, I don’t work well with others. So when we leave, I'll show you to the nearest safehouse, and you can go there. I finish missions alone. Understood?”

“Whatever you say boss, just one more thing, I happen to have some problems with following orders. Just wanted to fill you in.”

Stryker was too focused on her equipment to notice the obvious ‘wink-wink’ moment.

“Agents, this is Manny, we’ve been having problems with some Outcasts attacking and executing civilians to the southwest, just north of the Lincoln Memorial. Take them out and secure the area.”

“Copy.” Both agents said together.

* * *

**I imagine the sentry guns to be the same that guard the Dark Zone entrances. I feel like the White House of all places would have a few of these.**


	2. The Beginning, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I own nothing but my OC, all product is owned by Ubisoft and any affiliated with it.

Stryker had just entered the Air and Space Museum. She had sent Hemorrhage to The Ring to wait until she got back. Holstering her X-45, she pulled out her SR-1 and aimed down the sights, putting the head of a True Sons’ Combat Engineer in her sights.

“Remember Stryker, you need to locate the weapons and dispose of them as quickly as possible, we can't let them continue their use.”

“Ya know, if you didn’t talk all the time, I could get this shit done a lot quicker.”

“Don’t need your attitude today.”

“Then fuck off, I'm working.”

After terminating the connection, she pulled the trigger. All hell broke loose soon after. The Sons were organized and well-defended, they had better training then most no doubt, but despite common belief, only a few of them had actual experience. She had been US Army Ranger, seen countless operations, and trained further by the Strategic Homeland Division. This would be quite easy.

“Attention! Hostile inside the perimeter! To quarters! To quarters!”

She had already terminated four more members when she had reached the last two.

“You ready bitch! I'm gonna kill you!”

“Uh-huh, sure.” She said before putting a .308 round through his skull.

“Fuck! This is Tango Whiskey 0-1! Requesting immediate reinforcements to the main gate!”

She hadn’t even put the radio down when she got a similarly placed bullet too.

A True Sons Assault was just about to raise his rifle when a shot rang out. Spinning around quickly with her M4A1 assault rifle only to encounter Hemorrhage standing with his pistol smoking.

“Miss me?”

“I thought I'd told you to wait at the safehouse.”

“And I thought I'd told you that I don’t follow orders well.”

“Careful, the last agent like that went rogue and killed one my teammates. One might understand why I'd put a round through your head too, ya know, that being suspicious and all.”

“Woh there hon’, just came to help, no need to have an itchy trigger finger.”

“Fine, stay behind me and follow my every word, understood? Just one mistake and you can consider yourself without a teammate.”

“Crystal.”

“They're over there!” A True Sons exclaimed

He was dead before he hit the ground. Both Division agents stood with their rifles.

“Try to keep up, eh?” 

* * *

“Two right! Watch out for the launcher on the balcony!”

Stryker was calling out targets as Hemorrhage was performing sweep-and-clear operations in the building.

“Hey after this, wanna grab a bite to eat?”

“Seriously? You're hitting on me in the middle of a mission?”

“Come on. Think of it as a…”

Hemorrhage stopped as a True Sons’ popped up around the corner and he had to dispatch him with his blade.

“As I was saying, think of it as a ‘Get to know your partner’ type thing. Come on, it can't be the worst thing you’ve done before.”

“Fine, but I swear to god if you piss me off one more goddamn time I will put a bullet through your head. Understood?”

“Yes mom! I've heard that line like four times now. Cut it out.”

“Hey! Both of y'all are in the middle of a mission. Mind if you finish it before you start planning your ‘play time’?” Manny said in a very exasperated sigh.

Finishing up on the final floor, they had destroyed all the True Sons’ work for a workable missile. They were cooling off when they received a mysterious transmission. It had no speech, but rather just a garble of unintelligible static.

“Hey Manny, you hearing this?” Commented Stryker.

“Yeah. It’s weird, to the untrained ear it’s just static, but I think there is almost a message in there.”

“Picking up a Strategic Homeland Division Agent in the vicinity. Be advised, vitals are reporting strange spikes.” ISAC suddenly reported.

“The only agent that I know of in that area is Agent Edward Washington, callsign Raven. I sent him out to investigate a strange occurrence, not unlike this one we hear now. He is late reporting in, but I didn’t think of it any, ‘cause let’s be honest, it’s not like it for agents to be nice to the radio guy.”

“Be advised, unknown signature with agent.” ISAC reported again.

“This is Stryker to Rallypoint Omaha, requesting permission to investigate scene.”

“You're all clear, transmitting situation to nearby militia for assistance. And this time, please report back on time, and take Hemorrhage with you too. Rallypoint Omaha over and out.”

“Alright, let's take care of this, I don’t wanna spend another night in ‘Wild DC’.”

“Yes ma’am.”


	3. The Beginning, Part 3

“Hemorrhage, take point.”

“Copy.”

Agents Stryker and Hemorrhage were entering a building near the Demolition Site Control Point.

“Be advised Omaha Actual, Agent Hemorrhage and I are entering a building directly east of Control Point DS, how copy?” Stryker reported.

“Omaha Actual copies all, be careful Stryker. Omaha Actual out.”

“Stryker, the signal is coming from a floor above us. Cover me, opening an elevator door.”

“Copy.”  
“Omaha Actual, this is Stryker, advise any militia to set up perimeter around the building, something is going on here and I am not sure I like it.”

“Copy that Stryker.”

Hemorrhage attached himself to an elevator cable and launched himself up. Taking up a position along by the door frame, he signaled for Stryker to follow. Stryker had just reached the top when Hemorrhage saw it.

“Jesus Christ!”

Agent Edward Washington, callsign Raven, was dangling from some electrical wires from the ceiling.

“Someone is gonna pay for this.” Stryker said in an extremely pointed tone.

“Oh are they?”

Both agents slung their firearms toward the mysterious voice, they were too late. Stryker had spun just fast enough to see Hemorrhage take a bullet in the face.

_Ah fuck_

Last thing she saw was an extremely heavily armored and armed person leave the building. She noticed the faint glow of an orange ring just before slipping into conscience.

* * *

Agent Stryker woke up on a medical bed. She tried swinging her legs over to stand up when someone ran over and tried holding her down.

“Get. The. Fuck. OFF ME!”

“Stryker! Calm down! Its Manny! Just cool it. Calm down, your safe.”

Obviously sensing her confusion set on her face, he explained how when they hadn’t checked up, he sent in a team of militiamen and they found them both passed out.

“They also found agent Raven. Shame what happened, he was good agent, we’re running low on those.”

“Manny, I saw who did it.” Stryker said in the most terrified voice that Manny didn’t know she had.

“Who was it?” Manny knew that Stryker had seen shit and she was one of the strongest people that he had. The fact that she was scared only made him more scared.

“In New York, we called them Hunters. When my team finished up mopping up the LMB, we were sent into the Dark Zone, what we encountered there, no one could’ve been prepared for that.”

“But what are they agent? How can we stop them?”

“Did I ever tell you what happened in New York?”

“No, but you also didn’t see that much inclined to share.”

“There were four of us, all second wave Division. There was Agent Carter Monaghon, callsign Archangel, he was the team leader and one of the first two agents of the second wave other than Faye Lou. Then there was Agents Tomas Juarez and Chancellor Williams, callsigns Scorcher and Truck, respectfully. And lastly, there was me. Archangel was team leader, Scorcher was the technician, Truck was the team heavy, and I was the team marksman.”

Manny sat silently, just listening to her tell her story.

“When the four of entered the Dark Zone it was just like any other place, full of hostiles and in need of cleaning up. We encountered the expected hostiles but then came the hunter. Clad in head-to-toe in black. And we all saw the ISAC watches strapped to his backpack. I've never seen someone fight like that. It was obvious that he was hunting division agents, for pleasure or business, I don’t know. And then… and then.”

Stryker started to tear up.

“Shhhh. It’s alright. Just breathe.”

“And then he killed Scorcher. Not even quickly, with a bullet. He did it with a hatchet. He nearly crippled Truck. Archangel carried his body out while I helped Truck. Once we got back to the BoO and settled down and got medical assistance; it was clear that we were all changed. Truck required immediate surgery. He survived but had to go to therapy for a while. Which left me and Archangel. Eventually, we got things under control and when we got the emergency broadcast giving me the coordinates of DC, I was dispatched. I've never seen one again, but listen, from what I saw it was the same one.”

“Alright. Get some rest. I'll update the militia and put out a warning.”

“Manny, he has the know how to hack into Division tech. And, what happened to Hemorrhage?”

“Huh? Where is this sudden affection for your teammate that you’ve never shown before? Well, he survived the shot to his face, but he’ll be scarred for the rest of his life, a rather gnarly looking one too.”

The nurse was putting Stryker back to sleep.

“Don’t put me to sle…” Stryker was soon fast asleep.

“Don’t worry agent, we’ll find this asshole. We will. For Scorcher.”


	4. The Beginning, Part 4

It had been two weeks since the incident with the hunter and Stryker was finally cleared for duty. She, along with Hemorrhage were called up to meet with Manny Ortega.

“It’s good to have you two back in action. Anyway, my staff and I have decided to keep you two as a team permanently. Callsign Alpha Tango, Stryker, you'll be Alpha Tango One, and Hemorrhage, you'll be Alpha Tango Two. I've teamed Agents Kelso and Reed together into Bravo Tango.”

“Do we have an objective for today?” Stryker asked.

“You and Hemorrhage will be assaulting a bank just west of the Eisenhower Executive Office Building. We’ve received word that the Hyenas pulled something valuable of the plane wreckage and I want it. Got it?”

“Affirmative. We’ll set out immediately.”

* * *

“Be advised Alpha Tango, we’ve received word from some of our scouts that you’ll encounter three different elite officers. Ba careful, Omaha Actual out.”

“Alpha Tango copies all.” Stryker replied.

“Hemorrhage, take point.”

Hemorrhage had first entered the building. Rounding the lobby, they found the first of many Hyenas. They swiftly cleaned up the ‘trash’ and moved on. After clearing many floors of hostiles, they encountered their first elite.

“Stryker! Enemy behind a shield!”

“Understood! Deploying turret, deploy your drone!”

Receiving fire from four different places, the elite was eventually overrun.

“Grab the key off of him. We need to move.”

“Copy.”

As they were clearing rooms, Hemorrhage decided to lighten the mood a little.

“So, uhh, what do you think of my scar. Think chicks’ll dig it?”

“Not right now Hemorrhage. We’re busy.”

“Aww, you won't even call me by my name? mean.”

They quickly sobered up when they encountered their second elite guarding the vault door. Letting out a wave of lead, the agents were forced to take cover until he had to reload.

“Cover me! Imma try to break his armor!” Stryker told Hemorrhage over the sound of gunfire.

Hemorrhage emerged from cover and started to lay down covering fire from his assault rifle. He even managed to kill a few. Concurrently, Stryker was putting powerful .300 Winchester Magnum rounds from her Tactical M700 Remington, something she had grabbed while recuperating at the White House. After one-and-a-half clips, she finally broke the chest plate of his armor, it didn’t take long to put him down after.

“Glad that’s over. Come on, we need to move.”

“Alpha Tango come in; do you copy?” Stryker and hemorrhage heard over their comms.

“This is Alpha Tango, go ahead Omaha Actual.”

“Be advised, we’re intercepting lots of chatter from the Hyenas, listen.”

Manny patched them through and soon they were listening to their enemies.

“Roach! We can't let them get the President, if we do, we’ll lose all support from the council. Make sure those agents don’t leave alive!”

“Sure boss.”

After disconnecting, Manny came back over the comms.

“Agents, the Hyenas didn’t grab just anything from the crash, they got the fucking President.”

The two agents realized that this mission became a lot more important.

* * *

They had just entered the bank’s main vault.

“Hemorrhage, set up your claymores near the door, I expect that they're gonna try to stop us.”

Stryker in the meantime was accessing a computer to locate where they were taking the President. Hyenas were charging to try to stop them. Between Hemorrhage’s assault rifle and shotgun blasts and Stryker’s marksman and assault rifle fire, they easily stopped them.

“Seal ‘em in the vault, that'll keep ‘em there!”

Manny soon came over the radio

“ISAC, look for a way out!”

“Searches for a way out have resulted in no options.” ISAC responded

“Stupid fucking watch, ok hold on agents, I'm looking at the floor plans.”

“Omaha Actual, don’t mean to be annoying, but we sure would like to get the fuck out of here.” Hemorrhage said very exasperated.

“Okay, on the wall just east of you, place an explosive there, that'll grant access to a ventilation system from where you can escape.”

“Copy, appreciate it Omaha Actual.”

After moving through the vent system, they made it to an area overlooking a lobby. Filled with hostiles, they quickly emptied the room. Remaining no one but a single person.

“Agents, give him a comms piece, I need to talk to him.”

“Citizen! Identify yourself!” Hemorrhage yelled.

“Please, I wanna thank you. The names Andrew Ellis, President of the United States.”


	5. The Beginning, Part 5

_“Citizen! Identify yourself!” Hemorrhage yelled._

_“Please, I wanna thank you. The names Andrew Ellis, President of the United States.”_

* * *

“Move! Move! Hemorrhage, get the President behind cover, deploying shield!”

“Copy! Mr. President, it’s time to move!”

The members of Alpha Tango were struggling to hear themselves over the roar of the gunfire. They were currently on a catwalk waiting for a Black Hawk to ferry the President to safety.

“Manny, where’s that fucking chopper!?” Stryker said exasperated.

“Alpha Tango, chopper is 30 seconds out!” he responded.

By the time the Hawk arrived, its door gunner killed the rest of the Hyenas still firing. Loading the President on the helicopter, they stayed behind to neutralize any remaining hostiles.

“Good job Alpha Tango, the President is safe, continue mopping up the building and get back to Rallypoint Omaha. Got a bit of a surprise for you.”

“Copy.”

Stryker and Hemorrhage had finished off the rest of the Hyenas when Stryker discovered a great chest plate. It had extra ammo pockets, greater armor pockets that protected the wearer’s sides, and had neck guards.

“Hey, Hemorrhage, wait up, I'm replacing something, cover me.”

“Copy.”

Stryker had taken off her normal chest plate when Hemorrhage noticed that Stryker was ‘well-endowed’. Of course Stryker knew that he was staring at her impressive ‘baggage’, but she always had that effect on men, from school, to boot camp. She snapped Hemorrhage out of his trance.

“Alright, let's go. We gotta get back to the base.”

“Yes ma’am.” Hemorrhage responded in a slight southern accent. He hoped that she didn’t see him blush.

* * *

Manny Ortega knew that when he broke the news that Sarah would receive a new teammate; he would be killed in his sleep. Agent Jennifer Bagram, callsign Raptor, had answered the emergency call but was activated in Chicago, requiring a much longer travel period. She specialized in living off the land, she armed herself with a semi-automatic rifle and a submachine gun.

“Sir, anything I should know about my new squad leader?”

Manny had to stop himself from chuckling, she was very formal, and she passed the treason test with flying colors.

“First off, she was one of the original second wave agents who were hunting Aaron Keener in Manhattan. Second she is very skilled, she has taken numerous strongholds and control point all by herself. And third, she is very cautious to trust people, its gonna take some time to get warm with her.”

“Understood.”

Manny couldn’t figure Raptor out, she was sitting stiff-backed, doing nothing, just waiting for her new squad.

“Oh, and one more thing, her teammate, Agent Hemorrhage, will most definitely hit on you when he finds out you're a woman.”

“Understood.”

Whatever, she doesn’t seem to mind

He went back to his office to go over some other stuff.

* * *

Stryker and Hemorrhage had just walked into the White House when Hemorrhage saw. A woman built and powerful, but with an angular and feminine face, strolled up to Stryker. From the ISAC watch he concluded that she was an agent, but one he had never seen before.

“Ma’am! I am Jennifer Bagram, Agent of the second wave of the Division, callsign Raptor. Reporting for duty!”

“First off, back the fuck up, second, what the hell are you talking about Ms. ‘Reporting for duty’?”

“Sarah! I meant to tell you first. Agent Raptor just got in this morning; she was answering our distress signal. As Kelso and Reed were the only two agents originally, they're getting some easy mission for a rest. I've assigned Raptor to your team.” Manny had just exited his office to see the two women.

“Manny, a word?”

Manny left the other two agents to get to know each other before walking over to Stryker who was selling off some of her loot.

“Hey, what's up…”

“Cut the shit Manny, what the fuck!”

“Before you start, I am sorry I didn’t consult with you first, truly, but right now, I'm doing what I have to do to get this city back on its feet.”

“Fine, this happens again though, I will kill you in your sleep, understood?”

“Perfectly.”

Stryker started back up the stairs to welcome this new agent to the team. She found them sitting in the mess, eating some rations. When agent Raptor saw her coming she stood from her seat.

“Raptor, I'm Stryker, this is Hemorrhage…”

“Don’t worry boss, I've already introduced myself…”

Hemorrhage saw the death stare he was receiving from his leader and quickly shut up.

“As I was saying, finally, you are now Alpha Tango Three. Any questions”

“No ma’am.”

“Good. We’re clear for the rest of the day.”

“Understood.” Both the agents said in unison.

* * *

The team had dinner together that night in the mess hall. It was peaceful as one of the JTF personnel had started to strum his guitar. Afterward, Hemorrhage had went to the male shower area to clean up. Stryker and Raptor went to their respective showers.

“Let me ask you something Raptor.”

“Ma’am?”

“What's your story? What did you do before all of this?”

“Well, I had been in the marines. I had served some duties in the Middle East and spent my last one aboard the USS Arlington before being recruited.”

“Now I understand where your formality comes from.”

“I was raised by my father; my mother ran out on us a while ago. He raised me to be loyal and honorable. When I took the oath for the marines, I meant it. When I took the oath for the Strategic Homeland Division, I meant it. When I heard of agents going rogue, I've never felt sicker to my stomach in my life, when I learned who you were, well, I was kind of angry.”

“Angry?”

“At first yes, I had built up in my mind that you and your team didn’t try hard enough, but I soon realized that was bologna. Know this, I will always stand by the Division, I will kill its enemies and its traitors. Until I can no longer crawl, I will always serve the Division.”

“Well that’s comforting to know. By the way, did Hemorrhage try to make a move on you?”

“Ma’am, he tried the moment you went to speak with the captain.”

Both of the women laughed, and Raptor was comforted with the knowledge that she had just started to build her relationship with Stryker.

“Oh, one more thing.” Stryker told Raptor.

“Ma’am?”

“Enough with the ‘ma’am’ crap, we’re a team, I am Stryker or, when here, Sarah.”

“Understood…Sarah.”


	6. The Beginning, Part 6

Stryker along with Raptor and Hemorrhage were called up from their bunks to speak to Manny. Walking into the situation room on the first floor, Manny wasn’t nearly as stressed out as he usually was.

“Agents, welcome. I have some good news, other good news, and some bad news.”

“Let's hear it. Wanna get the day started.” Commented Raptor.

“First, with Ellis, as Speaker of the House, he has approved some of the locals who were chosen to serve as a quorum for Congress, we actually have a legislature now!”

“Wait a second, I though Ellis was the President?”

“He is slotted to be, but he still hasn’t actually accepted the post yet. Giving us some breathing room. Second, I have already sent out Bravo Tango and some other agents to deal with some missions today. Which means y'all can stay here for the day.”

There was huge sigh of relief among the agents, although they wouldn’t let other see it, they were being run ragged.

“Which brings us to our bad news. For y'all at least. As you have no operations to conduct, I've decided that it'll be your job to oversee the training for the local militia.”

“Aww, come on man! Your seriously gonna stick us with the short bus?” Hemorrhage complained in an annoying, yet slightly cute tone.

“Oh, I'm sorry, would rather be shot at from crazies and druggies?” Manny countered.

Although it shut him up, Raptor could still hear him mutter about something along the lines of yes, he in fact, would rather be shot at.

* * *

“You have thirty seconds to put rounds on all the pop-up targets! This is not to teach you accuracy but suppressing fire. Allowing your teammates to take down the enemy!” Hemorrhage was yelling at some militia members. Specifically the ones equipped with LMGs. While he only used an AA-12 automatic shotgun, it was the closest thing to suppressing fire they had.

In the other lanes were Stryker and Raptor training their own little posse of militiamen. Stryker had taken the scouts and riflemen under her wing while Raptor had taken those equipped with assault rifles and SMGs.

“Steady…steady…just breathe slowly, in and out.” Stryker was speaking into the ear of a woman who had particular difficulty hitting the target.

“When you're ready, pull the trigger on your exhale. Remember, you'll only get one good shot before hell breaks loose so make it count.”

The woman took her shot after another fifteen seconds. Looking up at the now moving target, she took it off the clips and smiled proudly, she had hit it.

“Listen, you have a lot to work on, but you hit the target, good job. Next!” Stryker ordered to the line that had gathered up behind her.

Raptor had taken up the last two lanes, one for assault rifles and one for SMGs.

“For those who are using submachine guns, you won't hit anything more than maybe a hundred feet, especially in urban combat, so don’t try it! Wait for cover from others to rush up closer or just wait! Those with assault rifles, the simple rule is this, the further away the target, use more and more bursts than just a full spray!”

Back to the LMGs, Hemorrhage was explaining that never use your weapon from the hip, always find some good cover and rest your weapon there, it'll be more stable.

They started around 0900 in the morning, they had stopped for a light lunch and went right back to it. They all stopped around 1600 for the day.

“Alright! Gather up!” Stryker wanted to have a final meet with all of the together.

“Every single one of you has been made better well over 100%, but you still have a lot of work to do. I'm gonna start something Captain Ortega, every single militia member must spend at least one hour at the gun range when not on patrol!”

There were some murmurs in the crowd but must understood that they still had a great need for practice. To the side, Manny had come down to check on them. Watching Sarah give them some work to do would help them get their minds off of the general crappiness of the situation. After giving out their final remarks, the agents were pulled to one side by Manny.

* * *

“How're they doing? And how're y'all doing?” Manny asked all of them.

Stryker immediately laid out her assessment of the militia. They had the spirit and the numbers, but they desperately needed more practice. The other agents nodded in agreement.

“Okay, well I guess y'all are dismissed, I'll have your next assignment by tonight.”

Raptor and Hemorrhage left back up the stairs and split off, Hemorrhage muttering how he needed to mod his shotgun’s sight. Stryker stayed behind, she needed to admit something to Manny,

“Manny, as much as you know I don’t work well with others, I have decided that we are incomplete, I am need of a heavy weapons operators. I have close quarters, marksman, and others, but I need a heavy weapons. Can you find someone?”

Surprised by the admission, he quickly nodded.

“I am sure I can find someone; I'll have their files to you tonight.”

“Thanks Manny.” Stryker turned and left up the stairs. Manny trying his hardest not to look at her backside as she did.


	7. The Beginning, Part 7

Stryker had her evening meal with her team and then to the bathhouses. She and Jennifer had another fun conversation, this one about what food they missed the most from before the shit had hit the fan.

“You know, as weird as it sounds, I miss Big Macs. I am not one for living to eat, I am more eat to live but lemme tell you some’em, a Big Mac used to hit the spot sometimes.” Raptor was amused by the little things that Stryker missed. Raptor had missed all the usual ones like Thanksgiving, but Sarah was one much more interested in the little things.

After their shower, Raptor had gone back to the bunk area to work on some personal things. Stryker was sitting at her workstation when Manny approached.

“Sarah! Earlier you asked for another agent. I've gathered some ideas up. First is Agent Lara Sanford, callsign “Hunchback”. She just got in a couple days ago and was slated to join Kelso’s team. Secondly, we have Christina Zazel, callsign “Bulwark”. Lastly, and this one is still yet to arrive, we have Agent John-Francis Goochland, callsign “Thunderclap”, he reported to us that he won't arrive until around late tomorrow or early the next day.” Manny handed her the stack of files.

“Thanks, let me read these over and I'll choose by tomorrow.”

“Understood, just do it quickly, once Kelso gets her hands on ‘em, she doesn’t like them to leave.”

They both chuckled, knowing when Agent Reed tried to do some lone wolf stuff, Kelso let him hear it at the end of the day.

Manny was walking back up to the first floor when Stryker called him.

“Manny, get some sleep, promise?”

Surprised at the attention, he nodded.

“Promise.”

_I'll just look at these tomorrow._

Stryker got up and went to her bunk. Tired, she fell asleep quickly after.

* * *

Hemorrhage woke around 0515. Unlike his teammates, he went to bed early, so he got enough rest. Walking up the stairs, he headed to the mess and sat at one of the many tables that decorated the room.

“Sorry agent, we’re still cooking the breakfast, we usually don’t start serving until around 0600.” A mess hall officer told him when she saw him sitting alone.

“Oh it’s alright, I just like to gather my thoughts, ya know?”

The mess hall officer just nodded and quickly went back to work. What he didn’t see was the other agent coming into the room.

“Morning ugly.” Raptor sarcastically remarked.

“Meany pants.” Hemorrhage retorted in a child-like tone.

They sat across from each other in comfortable silence for a while. Whether from just trying to mentally prepare for the day or thinking about stuff, they kept to themselves. Around 0545, Hemorrhage broke the silence.

“Hey, what do you think of Sarah?”

“If you're trying to find out who she is into, trust me, she isn’t into you.”

“That wasn’t it. I mean, she seems like she is always looking over her shoulder. When we woke up together in the clinic last week, she didn’t see me, but I saw her. She seemed close to tears. Whatever it is, only Manny seems to know.” Hemorrhage wrapped up his conclusion.

“Now that is something that catches my eye. It seems Sarah and Manny have some sort of connection, noticed it?

“You know what, yeah, I do now that you mention it.”

“The other night…”

“Shhhh! Here she comes, act normal.” Hemorrhage quickly interrupted her.

“So, how'd everyone sleep?” Stryker asked as she sat down next to Raptor.

“Fine.”

“Okay.”

Both of them looked like they were hiding something, but Stryker was too hungry to bother and just turned and went to get her plate, it had just turned 0600. No matter who you were, Agent or JTF or a militiaman, the cooks did not let anyone get some early.

* * *

After eating their breakfast, they were approached by Manny.

“Agents, I got your assignment for today.”

“I swear that man doesn’t seem to sleep.” Hemorrhage muttered as Raptor nodded in agreement.

“What is it, do we need to prepare for an extended operation?” Stryker asked, ignoring her teammates quips.

“I am sending Alpha Tango to the Jefferson Trade Center. It’s a two-part mission; one, find and reactivate the SHD node beneath it so we can connect with agents nationwide; and two, find Agent Espinoza, he was a member of Agent Kelso’s team when he went dark on the very same assignment.”

“Understood. Expected resistance?” Stryker asked.

“We don’t have much intel, but scouts report the place is infested with Hyenas. Which is weird, that’s all True Son’s territory. Be on guard.”

“Copy. We’ll contact when we complete each objective. Oh, can you give me another day to look at the files, I was just too tired to look at them last night?” Stryker responded

“Sure, that’s fine. It’s not like I have to do paperwork for it or whatever, that’s the one thing that I don’t miss much.”

Stryker nodded and turned to put on her ballistic vest. Hemorrhage went over to the quartermaster, Coop Denison, to pick up some extra ammo while Raptor was adding the last drops of oil to her pistol and assault rifle. Stryker gathered them up.

“Alright. This mission could help us reestablish the SHD network, as such, I want no jokes.” She gave a look to Hemorrhage who held his hands up in mock surrender. “And I want everyone to be on guard, you heard what Manny said, we could be walking into anything. Questions?”

When she received no response, Stryker nodded and turned towards the exit.

“Alright than, let's do this. Alpha Tango, move out!”

They disappeared into the sun from the White House’s basement exit.


	8. The Beginning, Part 8

The members of Alpha Tango had made it to the last block between them and the Jefferson Trade Center when a dust storm hit. None of them could see beyond maybe ten feet. It made it hard to breathe and see but they soon entered the center and went down the stairs underground.

“Whew. That shit is annoying.” Hemorrhage commented.

Stryker was all business at this moment and would have none of it. “Shut it. Stay frosty, we don’t know what we are expecting.”

They moved through the complex corner by corner, quickly but precise. They found themselves before a small atrium which had some escalators at the far end.

“I've got eyes on four hostiles; two assault, one rusher, and one thrower.” Raptor quickly called out targets.

“Copy. Raptor take the rusher and I'll take the thrower, Hemorrhage, you take the two assault. Got it?”

“Copy.”

“Copy.”

As quickly as they finished, Stryker opened fire, putting a .300 Winchester round through the skull of the thrower. The rusher barely had time to react as she herself was lit up with semi-automatic rifle fire from Raptor’s ACR. Simultaneously, Hemorrhage had put two 12-guage shells into the first assault and another through the last from his AA-12. The whole engagement lasted no longer than a few seconds at most.

“Move out. Check your corners.”

“Affirmative.”

“10-4.”

* * *

They had just finished fighting through part of a parking garage when they came upon the SHD Node Security Room. At the bottom of a staircase was a massive vault-looking door. The blast residue around the door made it obvious that someone had tried to enter but they hadn’t gotten in.

“Hemorrhage take point.” Stryker ordered.

Hemorrhage started down the stairs checking his corners. “All clear.”

Stryker and Raptor followed and after reaching the bottom, she motioned for the other two agents to take up positions by the door and the staircase, Raptor taking the stairs and Hemorrhage. Stryker held her watch to the screen.

“Agent of the Strategic Homeland Division detected. Scanning. No rogue designation detected. Please stand back.” A voice from the door reported.

After a few subtle clicks and hisses, the door swung open. Hemorrhage immediately entered, sweeping the area.

“Detecting Agent conducting sweeping operations. This node has not been physically tampered with. Detected unwarranted hack from an unknown source; 4 weeks, 3 days, and 17 minutes ago.”

That worried the agents.

“Uh boss, what the hell is it talking about?” Hemorrhage questioned.

“Unknown. Give me a sec.” Switching frequencies she contacted Manny. “Come in Rallypoint Omaha. Do you copy?”

“This is Rallypoint Omaha. We hear you. Go ahead Alpha Tango One.”

“Be advised, we have secured the node. The local ISAC defense server reported that no physical harm or tampering had been done. Apparently it was hacked about a month ago from an unknown source. Sending you the audio now. Be advised, we are moving onto the secondary objective. Alpha Tango One out.”

“That’s strange. We’ll analyze the audio and send some agents to complete the lockdown of the node, Rallypoint Omaha copies all. Good luck.”

Stryker turned to her compatriots. “Alright, it’s time to save a fellow agent. Stay frosty and focus. Understood?”

After receiving nods, she nodded as well. “Good, let's move out.”

* * *

“Watch it! Turret to the left!” Stryker called out.

“Deploying drone!” Raptor called out over the sound of heavy gunfire.

Hemorrhage had found closer cover and was putting shells down range, the distinct ‘Clack-clack’ sound lighting up the very echo-y parking garage. Stryker was started by picking off targets but switched to her HK416. They finally silenced the last of the Hyenas.

“Move out.”

“Hello? Is this thing on?” A strange voice came over their comms.

“Who the hell is this?” Kelso came in over the radio.

“I’m Coyote and your friend here was kind enough to give it to me. Wanna say hi?”

Alpha Tango and Kelso & Manny heard someone who was definitely struggling.

“You hurt him; you die.” Manny said very calmly over the radio.

“Listen here ya little shit. I want you to pull back those annoying agents of yours and no one has to die.” The click at the end illuminated that she was done.

“Agent.” Kelso had established a connection to Stryker. “Get me Espinoza. I want him outta there.”

“I'll take care of it. Alpha Tango One out.”

Alpha Tango quickly rushed through the rest of the building.

* * *

The agents found themselves on an elevated position overlooking a vast indoor courtyard. They started to open fire on all the Hyenas standing below. After clearing out most of them, a voice called out to them.

“Hey assholes. What him back? Here, have him.”

The agents stood in horror as ‘Coyote’ put a 9mm round through his head before throwing him off the edge, falling until he hit the floor with a distinct ‘splat’.

“Agent. I want you to kill that woman. With EXTREME prejudice.” Manny ordered, in a voice that barely contained his rage.

“With pleasure.” Stryker countered.

Alpha Tango sprinted up the stairs and rushed out in the awaiting courtyard filled with hostiles. All tactical thinking left their minds; they focused on only one thing, the piece of shit who just murdered one of their own. They finally killed the rest of the druggies leaving Coyote alone. She tried to move cover but received a bullet through her leg from Raptor. Stryker approached her with her pistol.

“No, no, no, no, no! Please, mercy!” Coyote whimpered, showing her true, coward-self.

“Got none left to give.” Stryker said before putting three rounds into her head. “let's go.”


	9. The Beginning, Part 9

When Alpha Tango got back to the White House, an atmosphere of sadness had enveloped those who knew of the operation. For the first time that Stryker had seen him, Manny seemed like he had accepted defeat. Kelso couldn’t even look at her, probably blaming her for the failure of rescuing her agent. After all, she had promised.

“Hey boss, doing okay?” Hemorrhage asked in his trademark accent, Stryker would’ve probably guessed southern Virginia.

Gone was the typical fun and ruck housing attitude. Even he knew now wasn’t the time for joking.

“No Grant. I'm not.” With that, Stryker excused herself and started for the showers. As she approached, she caught Raptor leaving them.

“Ma’am.” Raptor nodded out of respect before continuing on her way.

Being pretty much the apocalypse, everyone was given around two minutes of hot water before they had to use cold water. Stryker stripped down and walked into one of the shower stalls, letting the steaming water relax her skin. Taking one of the waiting soap bars, she quickly lathered herself up, making sure to give extra attention to places like the knees and elbows where they had regular contact with the dirt and mother nature when on patrol.

She didn’t know how long she had been in there for when she was snapped out of her trance by the White House’s PA system.

“Agent Stryker, to the situation room; repeat, agent Stryker to the situation room.”

She deduced that she had to have been in the shower long because the cold water didn’t even feel cold. It was numb, just like everything else.

She turned off the water, stepped out & dried off, and started dressing again. she picked up her earpiece and placed it in.

“This is Stryker. I'm enroute.”

* * *

Manny was waiting for Stryker when she walked into the room.

“Listen, imma need your final decision for your new teammate. Among other things but we’ll get there.”

Stryker had read the files when they got back from the Jefferson Center to try to get her mind off the incident, to no avail.

“Yeah, um, I think I'm gonna go with callsign ‘Thunderclap’. Seems well rounded and I like his former experience.” Stryker had seen that he was a member of the US Air Force’s elite pararescue group, before he was recruited into the US Special Operations Command as a member of Delta group and had run numerous classified assignments.

“I thought that’s who you'd pick. Now on to more important things.”

On that end, Kelso entered the room; nodding to Manny and sending the quickest stare Stryker’s way.

“I've decided that it’s time to finish the Hyenas off once and for all.”

Kelso popped in. “We’ve decided that your team will conduct a Breach and Clear straight through the center of the arena. Going level by level, you'll eliminate any opposition you come across.”

Although she didn’t think it would happen, she had to ask. “And if any surrender?”

Both Manny and Kelso looked at each other before Kelso responded. “Make sure no one is left to surrender.” Stryker understood the implication. Eliminate the Hyenas with extreme prejudice.

“Any questions?” Manny asked Stryker.

“When will I get my new teammate?”

“By the end of the day. You'll start the operation tomorrow; leaving here before sunrise and reporting to the safehouse near the arena, you'll make contact and then I'll give you the final go ahead.”

“Understood.”

All of a sudden, a knock came from the door before it opened. In walked President Ellis.

“Sir!” Both agents and the captain snapped to attention.

“Please. There is no need of that. I have observed the going-ons of the White House since I was so appreciatively rescued.” At that point he gave a nod to Stryker. “And I have decided that as we now have a congress, I can start making some appointments.”

“Sir?” Manny questioned.

“Captain Manuel Ortega, who made you the Strategic Homeland Division’s Chief Coordinator?”

“Sir, it was acting Director Mc’Owens. I was assigned to him when everything broke out and just before he passed from the Green Poison, he appointed me to the position.”

“Ahh, I see. A shame about him, of course at the time, he didn’t report to me but he seemed capable enough.

“He was sir.”

“Well, as I was saying, I have put your name to the quorum to give.” He held up his fingers in the quoting sign. “Advise-and-Consent to serve as my Executive Director of the Strategic Homeland Division.”

There was a weight in the air before Manny spoke.

“Sir, thank you very much for your trust, but with all due respect, am I really up for it.”

Before the President could respond, Kelso jumped in; she never was one for niceties.

“For the love of god Manny. You’re the only person right now who comes even close! Now shut the fuck up and thank him!”

Stryker couldn’t help but grin at the scolding she was giving him, almost like a mother to a small child. She swore she saw the President give a small smile too.

“In addition, to give you more authority and any and all military affairs that may arise, as Commander-in-Chief, I've promoted you to Colonel and appointed you as the Commanding Officer of the Military District of Washington.” Ellis continued.

“Thank you very much again sir.” Manny puffed out his chest a little bit in pride.

“Well, I know y'all got stuff to work on so, I'll take my leave.” Ellis said before excusing himself from the room.

“Mr. President.” They all saluted.

Gone was the depressed atmosphere and in its place, a touch of happiness.

“Congratulations!” Kelso yelled out.

“Yeah, congrats Manny.” Stryker shook his hand.

“Alright both of you, alright.” Getting back to business. “Go rest, both of you. You'll need it for tomorrow.”

“Understood, oh, and one more thing.” Stryker added.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t think for one minute that we’re not celebrating this tonight.”

Manny head his head low as both Kelso and Stryker laughed.

“Oh god.” He muttered. He always hated attention.

* * *

“Another one!” Hemorrhage yelled out.

Alpha Tango, Kelso, and Manny were gathered around a small fire on the White House’s roof. Hemorrhage grinned from ear to ear when he learned of Manny’s promotion. He explained that it gave him an excuse to crack open a bottle of homemade Moonshine that he made before the pandemic.

“Uhh, no way. That shit’s like battery acid dude.” Manny keeled over the side of the building, needing a little breeze.

“Yeah sure! That’s what a lil’ bitch would say!” Hemorrhage remarked before bringing the bottle to his lips and taking an impressive glug.

Everyone around laughed, slightly impressed by the redneck’s alcohol skills. After a few seconds, it grew quiet. Before they knew it, Ellis approached from the roof access.

“Mr. President!” all of them stood to attention.

“First of all, who the hell gave you permission to drink on my roof?”

The agents looked between themselves sheepishly when Ellis broke the silence.

“I'm kidding! Son, pour me a drink, I need it too.” Ellis motioned to Hemorrhage.

“Yes sir!” He responded in a giddy tone.

Taking the shot glass, Ellis downed the clear liquid as if it were water. “Damn, where’s the alcohol? Colonel Ortega, did I promote a wimp?”

All around the fire, Manny could hear many ‘Oooooohs’ and an ‘oh snap’.

“No sir. You didn’t.”

“Anyway, do any of you know the story of the ancient Roman legion who disappeared without a trace?”

A chorus of ‘No sir’ echoed around the fire.

“Well gather around and I'll begin. It all started when they reached Britannica…”


	10. The Beginning, Part 10

“ _Well gather around and I'll begin. It all started when they reached Britannica…_ ”

* * *

“Landing in York, they reported to Britannica’s governor based in Londinium, present day London. They were the Legio IX Hispania, or the “9th Legion – Hispania”. At this time, the Romans had already constructed Hadrian’s Wall; a wall that split Great Britain in two.”

Gathered around, the agents and the Colonel were listening respectfully. President Ellis’s head swinging around to make eye contact with them, his eyes like flashlights in the evening’s darkness

“They were sent north of the wall to finally suppress the wild, mainly pre-Scottish, tribes who raided the Roman lands.” After taking another shot of moonshine, he put the glass down and continued. “That was the last time that anyone would ever see or hear of the legion again.”

Hemorrhage popped in to ask a question. “What happened to them?”

“No one knows. Many believe that they were slaughtered to the last man. Understand that at the time, Rome was the greatest military of the time. Others believe that they realized they could make a new life for themselves and just stayed to make a family. When word reached the capital of Rome, it was decided that the north was just too dangerous, and no other Roman forces were sent to look for them.”

“What do you think happened to them sir?” Raptor interjected.

“Well, I would like to think they died heroically. Defending their Aquila standard to the last man. Which brings me to my point. In a thousand years, no one will know what happened here. I doubt anyone’s story, mine too, will survive. But that doesn’t mean that all this isn’t worth it. What all you have been doing will let this country rebuild. Never forget that. Promise me that, huh?”

All around him, the agents each gave a nod, silent, a show of respect for the history of the legion and their President.

“Umm, Hello. Am I in the right place?” A voice asked from the darkness. “I was sent up here from one of the officer’s downstairs.”

“It depends, who are you?” Manny asked.

“The name’s John-Francis, last name Goochland.”

“Your my new teammate?” Stryker asked incredulously

She looked him over. He was tall, very tall; standing around 6’ 4”. But his weight didn’t match. He seemed to be on the heavier side; strange too, he had been an elite operator. As far as she could tell, his primary weapon was an M249 B, a standard issue Squad Automatic Weapon in the US Armed Forces; as with her team, he had it sparkling with different attachments. Strangely, his secondary seemed to be an assault rifle; a heavily modified SCAR-L. they were pretty much standard issue to all special forces’ units. His sidearm was a P320 XCompact pistol.

“So your ‘Thunderclap’?” Manny asked.

“Yessir!” He responded in a clean salute.

“I'll take my leave now.” Ellis said before getting up and walking for the roof exit.

All the agents started to clean up, they had a mission tomorrow. Manny was bringing up the rear as he patted Thunderclap on the shoulder. “Welcome to the team son.”

* * *

“Good. Fucking. Lord.” Hemorrhage muttered to Raptor. They were both sitting opposite of their new teammate as he ate his breakfast, they were leaving soon.

Thunderclap had woken up 10 minutes after them, having only 15 minutes to eat before they set off. In that time; he had eaten 11 pancakes, 4 sausage patties, 10 strips of bacon, and three helpings of hash browns.

Raptor did nothing but nod in shared amazement. They didn’t even notice Stryker walking up to the table.

“Hello? Hellllllloooooo?” Stryker was trying to get their attention. She finally grew tired and slammed her fists on the table.

“Oh god!”

“Holy shit!

Both of them exclaimed. Thunderclap hadn’t even broken away from eating. All he did was look up from the table and stare at Stryker.

“It’s time, get your stuff, we’re moving out in one minute. I want everyone ready. Hemorrhage and Raptor were getting up from their seats to collect their stuff and bags when Thunderclap finally swallowed.

“Ready now ma’am.” As he finished, he pulled up his bag and all of his weapons.

Stryker said nothing, she turned to her shocked agents whose mouths were agape.

“Well at least someone is ready to go.” She sarcastically remarked.

Rising from the table, ‘clap grabbed his plates and brought them to the mess staff. One cleaner grabbed them, muttering how now other people can finally eat.

* * *

Alpha Tango had departed from the White House and were traveling at a brisk jog to the safehouse.

“So, Thunderclap.” Hemorrhage started.

“Yea?”

“When was the last time you ate?”

Raptor sniggered.

“Well I had three MRE’s right before I went to bed.” He innocently responded.

“All of you, shut it. Save the jokes for later.” Stryker told them from the front of the pack.

“I am serious though ma’am, I did.”

“Alright, okay, fine.” Stryker gave up.

They reached the safehouse about an hour after leaving the White House and went to the comms station. Stryker reached for the mike.

“This is Alpha Tango One to Rallypoint Omaha, do you copy? Alpha Tango One to Rallypoint Omaha, come in.”

“zzzzz…This is Rallypoint Omaha, go ahead Alpha Tango.”

“Be advised, we’ve reached the haven. What's our status, do we have a green light?”

“Affirmative, I say again, affirmative. See you on the other side. Rallypoint Omaha out.”

With that, Stryker turned to her team. “Let’s go. Got a job to do.”

With that, they left the safehouse as quickly as they entered and were so close to the arena. They took cover at the last block. Stryker started to give out orders.

“Okay, when it happens; I'll take overwatch on that truck, Hemorrhage, you and Raptor take up front line positions, Thunderclap, lay down suppressing fire. The only thing is we need to make a bang. But I wanna save our grenades.”

“I got this.” Thunderclap said before sprinting straight for an enemy that was luckily lloking the other way.

“What the hell is he doing?” Hemorrhage asked.

All of a sudden. Thunderclap pushed his SAW to the side, he continued to run full speed, the Hyena didn’t even have time to turn as Thunderclap tackled him straight into a wall with enough force to crack his skull.

“Holy. Shit. Remind me to never mess with him.” Hemorrhage commented.

“Agent! Fucking shoot him you useless fucks!” A Hyena shouted.

“Hey boss! I took care of it!” Thunderclap yelled.

“I'm gonna fucking die. I just know it.” Stryker said to herself as the other two were rounding the corner. “I got Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-fucking-shit-head on my team.”


	11. The Beginning, Part 11

“Thunderclap! Cover Hemorrhage and Raptor!”

“Affirmative!”

The team had been fighting through the arena for the last hour-and-a-half. It was obvious that the Hyenas had radioed for help cause more and more were coming from behind them.

“Alpha Tango One to Rallypoint Omaha! Come in!” Stryker spoke into her earpiece; trying to be heard over the roar of gunfire.

“This is Rallypoint Omaha. Go ahead.” Manny responded

“We are taking heavy fire from multiple directions! Requesting civilian militia attack the arena as a distraction!”

“I'll see whose close to you. Stand by.” Manny cut off the transmission.

“Stryker! We got a tank!” Hemorrhage reported.

“Concentrate all fire on his chest plate!”

After only a couple seconds, the combined fire from the team broke the armor on the tank, it took only a few more shots to put him down. The Hyenas still didn’t let up.

“Rallypoint Omaha to Alpha Tango. Do you copy?”

“We’re here!”

“Three squads of militia totaling 12 men and women are on their way, ETA, 10 Mikes. Callsign is Golden Buffalo. How copy?”

“Tell ‘em to make it 5 or we’ll be overrun!”

“Copy, transmitting.” The line went dead for a few moments as Manny relayed the orders. “Buffalo copies all. They’ll get there.”

“10-4!”

“Listen up, we gotta hold out a little bit longer!”

Just then, the Drone Controller at the White House radioed them. “Be advised Alpha Tango, thermal imaging is picking up a large mass coming from the highest level, expect more resistance.”

“Copy!” Stryker responded before turning to her team. “Raptor! Get your…” she never finished her sentence. All of a sudden, the world went black around her.

* * *

The world around her was slow, and cloudy. Blinking a couple times, Stryker finally managed to open her eyes. Although the M249 B SAW that Thunderclap was using could potentially burst your eardrums, it was just a distant noise to her. Thunderclap was laying down fire with Raptor. Right above her with a worried look was Hemorrhage.

“Stryker do…focus on…listen…look at.” This was all that Stryker could make out, her ears still fuzzy.

It was too soon when the world around her went black again.

* * *

“Rallypoint Omaha! This is Alpha Tango Two, is anyone there!” Hemorrhage spoke into his earpiece.

“This is Manny, what’s going on?”

“Be advised! Alpha Tango One was near a grenade when it exploded! I say again, Alpha Tango One is down! Where’s the fucking militia!”

“Received. They're a Mike out, you're in range to speak to them, Callsign is Golden Buffalo. Will the med wing need to be prepped?”

“Affirmative! She’s lost lots of blood, we’ll send her with the militia!”

“Understood. Prepping the wing now. Rallypoint Omaha out.”

Before radioing the militia, Hemorrhage took some potshots from behind cover.

“This is Alpha Tango Two to Golden Buffalo! Is anyone there!”

“This is Buffalo, go ahead.”

“We are in dire need of support. Be advised, this is a hot zone! Requesting two people to evac one of our own!”

There was no response for a couple seconds as Hemorrhage just rolled his eyes.

“It means, get the fuck in here, we have wounded! Be careful, there are lots of ‘bad guys’!”

“Understood, sending some people up.”

“Jesus. We’ve definitely gotta teach ‘em more.” He muttered under his breathe.

The team spent another two minutes swapping fire with the Hyenas before they seemed to break off finally. They all heard gunfire outside, they assumed it was the militia.

“Anyone here? We were sent in here to help!”

“Identify yourselves! Now!” Raptor aimed her rifle toward them.

“Woah! We’re just here to help!” both civilians put their hands up.

Hemorrhage took only a moment to analyze them. There were two. One man, one woman. Both tall, both relatively fit. The woman carried a shotgun, the man, an SMG. Both were by their torsos, still connected to their combat loops.

“You two made it just in time. We got a wounded here.” Hemorrhage let them through and walked over to his leader.

“She’s lost a lot of blood. We need to keep moving forward.” He straightened his posture as the militiamen nodded. “As an agent of the Strategic Homeland Division, operating under Presidential Directive 51, I hereby have supreme tactical authority.” Both of the civilians looked intimidated.

“You two, as well as the squads sent here, are to escort this woman safely and swiftly to the White House. If any of your comrade’s protest, I am hereby authorizing you to subdue them. Get. This. Woman. To the White House. Understood?”

They looked at each other for no more than a second when they turned toward him again. “Yes sir!”

“Good, get outta here.” He turned to the others. “Let's go.”

* * *

Raptor was impressed. While Hemorrhage was almost exclusively child-like, when the moment came, he stepped up. Gone was the joking, gone was his trademark smile. In its place, determination. She’d have to ask him what he did before all this when they got back to base.

“Hemorrhage, I'm picking up multiple targets.” Thunderclap said as he analyzed data streaming in from his recon seeker mine.

“Affirmative.” The team took up positions by the door, inside was the arena itself. They had passed tons of greenhouses, the arena looked like the biggest one so far. Waiting only to grab one of his explosive seekers, Hemorrhage popped out of cover and threw the modified mine into the center of a group of panicked Hyenas.

“What the fuck is that?” One of them bent down to pick it up.

“Bad idea son.” Thunderclap muttered.

All of a sudden, it blew. Of the 10 or so hostiles, 4 of them died instantly, the one who picked it up was in even worse shape. Considering he was in multiple shapes. All of the floor. Bloody.

“Spread out and eliminate with extreme prejudice!” Hemorrhage ordered.

Soon, there was a full-blown firefight in the arena. Not nearly as bad as the one before though. When the last of the Hyenas’ leaders graced them with his presence, the team decided to end the fight here; lasting no longer than 10 minutes, the hostiles were put down. The leader was crawling away, injured.

“Please, I surrender! I'll stop.”

Hemorrhage was conflicted. Although he was always merciful to those who were injured, he started to remember both the gruesome videos of Hyenas brutalizing civilians and the briefing given by Stryker. ‘We are to eliminate them to the last.’ She said. Wasting no more time, he did what he though was best.

“Unfortunately, we ain't taking prisoners.” Hemorrhage said before blasting his skull open with his shotgun.

Raptor flinched but noticed Thunderclap not react at all. She always had a tough time with the ‘no prisoners’ method.

“Gather up all the intel you can find and let's get the hell out of here.”

* * *

Manny was waiting on word from the doctors. The militia had gotten to the White House in record time. Stryker was rushed into surgery immediately. He was leaning over a map of D.C. when a nurse came in.

“Colonel. Agent Collins sustained a major injury, but she’s pulled through. Both from the doctors and that division tech they got. She may not even need physical therapy with those nanites repairing her body.”

“Thank you. Dismissed.”

The nurse left the room. Manny let out a huge sigh of relief. Looking down at the map, he flicked the Hyenas off of the arena. _Finally, progress_. Manny hadn’t been this happy since before the Green Poison.


	12. The Beginning, Part 12

“Sir. Brenner just came back from scouting. He’s reported that the group known as Hyenas have been eliminated by agents of the Division.”

“Good. They’re doing more for us than I thought.”

“Sir, would you like me to send Brenner’s report to you?”

“Yes, thank you. Dismissed.”

“Sir.” The subordinate responded before leaving.

Picking up a phone, the other man dialed a number. “Sir. You were right. The Division has freed up some of our responsibilities.” Waiting a few more moments in silence, he responded. “Of course, yes sir, I'll take care of it.” He hung up the phone. He looked at one of many photos of some Division agents.

“Shame, y'all would’ve made excellent operatives.”

* * *

Raptor was sitting across from Thunderclap in the mess hall. It had been a couple hours since they had returned from the arena and Hemorrhage was in a meeting with Manny as the acting team leader. Thunderclap on the other hand, _this fucker can eat! Shit._ Thunderclap was on his fourth bowl of vegetable soup and just finished an entire loaf of bread.

“Hey, Gooch’, can I ask you something?”

He looked up from his bowl. “Sure, what is it?” If it wasn’t for his skill and what he did pre-poison, you'd think he was one of them ‘special’ people.

“How are you capable of eating everything in your sight?”

“Well.” He wiped the edge of his mouth with his napkin. “In 2010, my team and I were sent to Africa to deal with some terrorist dealing with a dictator.”

He stood up and put the finished bowl in one of the bins. “The operation went south, and I was captured. They were awful interrogators I remember.” He chuckled a bit. “But the they starved me. When I was finally rescued, I had lost nearly 50 pounds.”

His face was set into a more serious scowl now. “When a person goes through that, they change. Now, psychologically I have to eat everything when I can ‘cause my brain will think this is that last time I'll be able to eat.”

“Wow, sorry you had to go through that.”

“Oh, it’s fine. All it means is I eat more. I always loved eating any way. It’s a win-win if you ask me.”

Raptor was astonished that a man could go through that and still be in good spirits. Just then, Hemorrhage entered the mess, quickly finding them, he walked over to them.

“Hey, how's the boss?” Raptor questioned.

“The militia got her here in record time. She was rushed into surgery and appears that she’ll make a full recovery. She is still under for some time though. However, we just got our new orders.”

“Oh?” Thunderclap said.

“For now, we’re to avoid the True Sons.” He put his hands up defensively when Raptor showed displeasure. “I know, I know, but Manny says we have to deal with those Outcast fucks first. As such, tomorrow at first dawn, we have need to take some enemy control points and open up the Campus for trade. That’s all for today, y'all are off but I'm gonna help teach some of the militia.”

With that, Hemorrhage walked off, back down to the basement and presumably to the firing range.

Both Raptor and Thunderclap sat in silence for a few moments before the latter stood up.

“Fuck it, it ain't like I got anything else to do today.” With that, Thunderclap walked away.

 _Wonderful, just fan-fucking-tastic._ Raptor stood up and followed her teammate.

* * *

Alpha Tango thought it best that the militia learn in a classroom instead of the firing range where they found them. It was time to learn the other aspects of combat. They had set up an impromptu classroom in the west wing in the old cabinet room. Hemorrhage was teaching them about talking on the radio.

“When someone says that a location is a ‘Hot Zone’, it means that it is a danger area. So watch out. Further, many of you are confused by callsigns in general. We have them because we are agents of a top-secret government agency. Y'all probably won't need them but a squad may have a callsign, you'll need to know these if you get an emergency call.”

“And again.” Raptor interrupted. “We are division agents. As per Presidential Directive 51, Section 102-XV, agents have supreme tactical authority. As such only the President, executive director, coordinator, and any others appointed by the President can tell us how to operate. As such, if anyone of us gives y'all a direct order. It is legit.”

Off to the side was Thunderclap and Captain Bill McClanahan, the head of security at the White House. He was a retired civilian, but he had been a SWAT officer and used to be the head of his own private security company before the outbreak. As such, Manny had appointed him due to the fact that no one else had such experience. Captain McClanahan was technically the Commander of the United Militia.

“Never ever be afraid to loot an enemy. When you’re out in the field, supplies may be hard to find.” He was about to go on when the captain interjected.

“Remember, this is a very different world now. You aren’t soldiers in the field that have a whole government behind them. Everything you see here is what you get, so do what you need to survive.

At that point, Thunderclap started talking. “You also need to feel confident. When I was first starting to learn how to drive, my father always said to have no hesitation, ‘if you’re gonna pull out of a turn, than do it. If you hesitate, you can cause an accident.’ Same thing here, have confidence in yourself, your weapon, and your team. Saying that, overconfidence will also get you killed.”

The team spent another couple of hours going over stuff, breaking halfway through for a quick lunch.

* * *

“You think they’ll get upset?” Stryker asked.

Stryker, unlike what Manny told Hemorrhage, was awake and fully operational. She was standing in the command room, looking out of the window at the team instructing the civilians.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. We have a problem, and I see this as the best solution.” Manny responded.

“Let's go over it one more time. Tonight, when most everyone is asleep, you're to exfil, and head west. Once deep in hostile territory, you'll have full tactical authority to do whatever you wish to cause fear and disorientation in the hearts of the outcasts. Any. Means. Necessary.”

Stryker got the point. He wouldn’t ask questions about what she did, and she didn’t have to enlighten him on how she got information.

“Here, take this. When on operations, never take it off. This'll help with the intimidation.” As he was telling her, he went over to a box and retrieved a mask. It was black but looked to be made out of some durable material. Not unlike the hunter that she had the misfortune of engaging.

“Who are you gonna replace me with?”

“Most likely Hemorrhage, but they’ll need another agent to compensate for the loss of you.”

“What are you gonna tell ‘em when they realize I'm not here anymore?”

“I'm sure I can come up with something.”

“Am I gonna join them again?” She asked hesitantly. Despite what people see, she had grown attached to her team.”

“Agent. At this point, I don’t know anything.”

“Understood.” With that, Stryker left to put up her façade in the med wing.


	13. The Beginning, Part 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, just for some info, I have written this story such that the control points are referred to as their military alphabet. Fallen Cranes for example would be written as Control Point Foxtrot Charlie. Remember to give write reviews if you like the story. Or if you don't. Or you just want to suggest something.
> 
> ***Beware there is a small torture scene in this chapter. I do not think it is that bad but I am telling you now incase you are unnerved by that sort of thing.

“Effective immediately, I've closed off all contact with Stryker.” Manny told the rest of Alpha Tango.

After a chorus of opposition, Manny told them the situation. “Look, when the med staff tried to wake her, something went wrong. As of now, she is in a coma. Hopefully we’ll get her back soon.” Despite the fact that he knew it was a lie, it saddened him to see the reactions of the team.

Before anyone else said anything more, Hemorrhage spoke. “Understood sir. Will we be receiving a newbie to fill in her spot temporarily?”

“Affirmative. Since we don’t know when she’ll wake up, as of now, consider yourself the permanent team leader of Alpha Tango. Y'all got a lot of work to do and I suggest you get to it. Dismissed.”

“Sir!” The team saluted before exiting the room.

After making sure they were beyond earshot, he clicked open a comm channel.

“Big Penn to Reaper, Big Penn to Reaper, how copy?”

There was a small amount of static before a voice broke through. “This is Reaper, go ahead.” For some reason, Manny felt good hearing Sarah’s voice for the first time since she had left.

“Alpha Tango has secured the Campus and control points Tango Alpha and Echo Whiskey. Advise you to avoid the north western part of DC for now, they were just sent to secure the federal emergency bunker.”

“10-4. Be advised, I have new intel gathered from some captured outcasts. Leader known as Emeline Shaw is located on Roosevelt Island. Need to secure the Kennedy Center and control point Tango Golf before assaulting the island. How copy?”

“Big Penn copies all. Big Penn out.”

He didn’t know how Sarah had gotten that information since outcasts were pretty much a cult, but he knew of her background and he knew he gave her permission to use any ‘interrogation method’ needed to get information. He felt a shiver run up his spine at the thoughts of what she did to them; regrettable yes, but necessary.

* * *

“What the fuck happened here?” Raptor asked to no one in particular. The team had entered the bunker and were clearing the halls as they passed maybe a dozen or more bodies of JTF personnel and some division.

“Keep it frosty.” Hemorrhage said before any response could be given. “Thunderclap, you're up.”

“Copy.” He strode forward with his assault rifle raised; clearing the halls that decorated the main hall.

When the team reached the end of the hallway, they found the bunker’s control room. In it were almost a dozen outcasts. “Time to get to work ladies and gentlemen.” With that, the team rained hellfire down on the outcasts.

* * *

“What do you miss?”

“Fuck you!”

Stryker was sitting in a chair opposite of a captured outcast. She needed information.

“I miss barbeques. With good southern sweet tea.”

“Go to hell!”

“I'm already there. Now, I grow tired of these niceties. Tell me everything about Roosevelt Island’s defenses.”

“I will say nothing! You and those True Sons are responsible for our suffering.”

“Very well. If you won't talk, you'll show me.”

She got up and walked around the table. Pulling his head back, she grabbed his tongue and put her blade against the soft flesh.

“I'll ask one more time. Tell me about the island. I won't ask again nicely.”

“Fuck…”

Before he could finish his curse, like a precise surgeon, Stryker cut off the man’s tongue in one fluid motion.

“Aggghhhhh!” Strapped to the chair, the only thing he could do was shake in his chair as blood flew from his mouth like a hose.

“They always try to act tough, why?” Trying to be heard over the screams, Stryker retrieved a map from a nearby table. “Now, I am gonna ask some questions and you're gonna nod yes or no. Understood?”

All the man did was nod, it wasn’t like he could say anything.

Putting the map on the table, she slid her finger across the map until it rested on the image of the island. “Is this bridge the way you move men and supplies?”

He nodded yes.

“Is there an escape route of any kind for that piece-of-shit Shaw?”

There was a grunt of resistance to the insult, but she just slapped him upside the head and continued. “Is there?”

He nodded yes again.

“Where? Show me on this map.”

He shook his head back and forth violently.

“Oh don’t be scared of what she’ll do, you're not walking out of this room alive.”

He looked up with the most terrified face. If it wasn’t for the suicide bombers used against civilians or the simple extermination of civilians, she might actually feel bad for the outcast.

“Listen, if you help me straight, I might consider giving you a quick death.” She could tell he became resigned, accepting that his death was nigh. “Show me.”

His hand shaking, he extended his arm and pointed at a spot that used to be the drainage area for the sewage system on the island. “I presume she keeps a motorboat there for emergencies?”

He nodded solemnly.

“I thank you for your cooperation.” She started to walk behind the man and picked up her pistol on her bag. “As such, I'll keep up my end of the bargain.” Before he could even turn to wonder what she was doing, she put a .45 round from her Tactical X-45 through the man’s head, covering the map on the table with a spray of crimson fluid.

“Damn. Forgot to put that away first.”

* * *

“So, are you excited?” Matthew Velma asked. He was an outcast, one of the original on the island when they were quarantined. He was proud to serve under Emeline Shaw. The man he was talking to was terminally ill with the green poison. He volunteered to be a bomber.

“Yea, for sure. It’s an honor to serve with y'all and I wouldn’t go out any other way.”

The group of four outcasts turned the corner and they stopped dead in their tracks. Before them was a massive semicircle, made from crucified outcasts, all showed severe trauma from torture. In the middle was a sign with the words ‘You reap what you sew’ in spray paint.

It was too late when one of them heard the scream of a high-velocity round hit the explosive chest pack of their comrades, lighting them up. Soon, they were all still.

High up on a rooftop overlooking the intersection, Stryker pulled the bolt back, and reloaded another round into the chamber of her rifle. “And Death shall reap.” She muttered.


	14. The Beginning, Part 14

“Goddamnit!”

Emeline Shaw was pissed. Standing in front of her were some of her closest lieutenants. For days, they had been receiving reports that someone was taking out he patrols. Now, it had changed.

“Ma’am?” One of her lieutenants spoke up.

“What!”

“The men ma’am, they're afraid to leave the island. There have even been reports of some desertion.”

Just before she was about to respond, a knock came from her office door. “Come in.” Walking in was her head of security, The Basilisk. “Ma’am. We’ve got some photos from the most recent attack.” He put a series of photos on her desk. Picking up the soft-textured photos, she analyzed them.

“Ma’am, whoever is doing this knows what they're doing. Never the same place twice, covers their tracks, and actually knows survival.”

“Does this have anything to do with that pesky division team that just took our bunker.”

“We don’t think so ma’am. That team is supposed to be the division’s strike team, and we have access to their comms. Whoever is doing this, they're not getting anything from the division.”

* * *

“Every outcast had reported that Emeline Shaw has an escape route, unfortunately, they all say something different.”

“Understood.”

The one thing that the division could count on was the arrogance of the outcasts. They were little more than bullies. No tactical training, no freedom to think on the battlefield. Manny was well aware that the outcasts were listening in on Alpha Tango’s comms. He allowed them to. It made them think that they were getting something. All it did was mislead them as he sent dozens of reports and orders to Stryker through their secured comms.

“I've been a bit busy, how's the team doing?”

“They just cleared the bunker. Their next orders are to take the Kennedy Center. I'm telling them after they’ve had their lunch.”

“Be advised, from the intel I've gathered, Shaw’s right-hand man and primary propagandist is headquartered there. The guy’s basically a modern Joseph Goebbels.”

“10-4, I'll relay the intel. And one more thing, I know you want to, but you are not taking part in the assault on the island.”

There was silence for a moment over the radio and Manny thought that she might have just disconnected the comms.

“No.”

“Listen, Sarah, I can't allow…”

“Manny, I'm done after this. When we open up the island for assault, I'm doing it too. I have too many cards in this game to watch someone else get Shaw. She’s mine.”

“We’ll talk about this later.”

With that, he disconnected the transmission.

* * *

“Sir, Brenner’s reporting that the team leader of the division strike team is no longer with the team. He suspects that she may be responsible for the acts of terror against those infected crazies. Serves them right if you ask me sir.”

“I wasn’t. That'll be all, dismissed.”

The soldier gave a respectful nod and left. Opening the drawer to his right, he picked up a SAT phone and dialed a number. He let it ring as he waited for it to be picked up.

“This is Wyvern, go ahead.”

“Be advised, the division team we’re tracking has only told me more about their skill. When we finally go in, don’t let your pride get to your head, they are not to be trifled with.”

“Sir.” She responded before hanging up. The man signed; the woman, while effective, was often a loose cannon, he had placed a lot of trust in her making her the leader of the forces in Washington.

He was not gonna shed a tear if she failed.

* * *

Hemorrhage was pissed. The position of team leader was unceremoniously dumped on him. Further, Manny was still refusing any access to Stryker. He would bring up the issue with his team in the mess hall. He found them as he walked in.

“Hey boss, they got some chicken pot pie for lunch today.” Thunderclap reported.

“Good, I love that shit.”

Knowing that all parts of the White House were monitored, he quickly slid a piece a paper across the table under a napkin that he feigned-giving to Raptor. She picked it up the napkin, not realizing that she was given a message. As she went to wipe the corner of her mouth, she felt the differing textures and looked down, realizing there was a piece of paper. Opening it up, its message was short and to the point.

**Tonight. 2200. Firing range.**

She looked up at Hemorrhage; all he did was give a slight head nod before going back to his pot pie.

Putting her right down to her side, under the table, she tapped on Thunderclap’s left leg. Looking up, he quickly noticed the piece of paper by his leg, taking it, he read it and nodded to himself.

To save power, the mess hall, recreational hall, and other non-essential parts of the White House were often lit by candles and fireplaces. When they finished the meal, Thunderclap balled up the note and tossed it into the fireplace inconspicuously.

Hemorrhage was walking to the west wing, preparing for another lesson for the militia when he heard his name called out. Turning around, his eyes fell on none other than Manny Ortega.

“Grant. We’ve received intel from one of our scouts that Emeline Shaw’s right-hand man is headquartered at the Kennedy Center. You're to leave at 0200 tomorrow to take down the center, understood.”

“Yes sir.”

Manny nodded and turned to leave when Grant spoke up again.

“Mind telling me where you're getting all this information?”

“What was that agent?” Manny asked in an accusatory tone.

“I asked; where are you getting this information. All this intel can't just come from someone scouting out a building. So what the hell are you getting this from.?”

“I'm gonna pretend that I didn’t hear you just try to chew me out. Take care where you poke around. You know what they say, ‘Curiosity killed the cat.’”

Hemorrhage chuckled a bit. “You know, people always say that, but they never tell you the whole quote.” Stepping toward Manny, he was nearly an inch from his face. “’But satisfaction brought it back.’ I'll be seeing you sir.” Hemorrhage saluted and continued down the hall.

* * *

“Big Penn to Reaper. Be advised that Alpha Tango Two has become suspicious. I believe that he may discover soon.”

“Understood. We can only do, what we can do.”

Manny terminated the connection. Sarah hoped they would find out what she was doing, if only that way she could finally rejoin them.

“Fuck you, Bitch!”

Stryker sighed; it was time to get back to work. Picking up a hatchet she approached another outcast that was strapped to a chair.


	15. The Beginning, Part 15

“First, I want to congratulate those who helped in stopping the Hyenas.”

Captain McClanahan remarked before continuing his briefing.

“A couple things to know about this new enemy, these outcasts. Agent Bivins, want to give them the report?”

“Yes. Thank you Captain. The first class of enemy is what we are labeling as an ‘Assault’. These guys are your standard outcast. In firefights, they are more organized than the Hyenas but less than the True Sons. They are equipped with the common AK-M’s, some of you may use them too. Don’t be afraid to pick up ammunition from their bodies.”

Hemorrhage clicked a button and another slide passed to a new picture.

“These are what we call ‘Rushers’. These are people who are terminally ill with the Green Poison and have therefore volunteered to be suicide bombers. If you ever come up on a patrol or anywhere for that matter, they should always be your first target. They are fast too so try to kill them before you alert them. If you're a really good shot, you maybe be able to hit their explosives, blowing themselves and their compatriots to bits.”

“Next are the ‘Throwers’, these guys use only a pistol, but they throw Molotov cocktails at their enemies. They are weak, but make sure to dodge their Molotov’s. Here we have a ‘Controller’, these are people who operate RC cars with sawblades attached to them. After the Rushers, these should always be targeted, don’t wanna lose a leg after all.

* * *

Manny was looking out the window of the Blue Room, where he had set up his personal office and private quarters. He looked down at an angle towards the west, looking into the west wing cabinet room. His agents were giving a brief to some militia. turning back to his desk, he picked up his comm piece.

“Big Penn to reaper, how copy?”

“Reaper here, go ahead.”

“I've received some reports from our advanced scouts. It seems you’ve been busy terrorizing the outcasts.”

“Oh?”

“I have reports that there are some pretty gruesome scenes in the street.”

“You gave me a job. I will continue until I put a bullet into Shaw’s head.”

“Makes you think you know, what you would do if your child died.”

“Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t mean that you should start to kill random people.”

“Understood. Big Penn out.”

* * *

It was 2000 and Alpha Tango was in the mess hall. They cooks had served a chicken salad with some freshly baked bread. Everyone was so preoccupied with security and other support operations that no one considered that the mess staff were probably the only thing that had kept everyone going. They were life saviors.

Hemorrhage stood up and put his plate in a bin. “I'm going to the workbench. Gotta fiddle with my sights.” He gave each Raptor and Thunderclap a wink.

Raptor nodded and Thunderclap just looked down to his plate. Looking over, Raptor saw that he was halfway done with his fifth big plate of salad. “Jesus Christ.” Raptor muttered before cleaning herself up and leaving for the female showers.

Thunderclap remained alone at the table, quickly finishing up his salad he went up to the grub line and turned to one of the mess staff behind the counter. “Hey, you got anything else back there.” In an innocent voice.

“Fucking dammit. ‘Fraid you were gonna ask. Give me a second.”

He disappeared behind the curtain and scrounged around for more food.

* * *

His eyes closed; his breathe even. His knees could feel the course texture of the concrete floor beneath him. He could hear the slight buzz coming from the roof lights. The smooth texture under his fingers as they slid around the grip of his ACS-12.

Ding!

Mere seconds after hearing the starting noise, Hemorrhage pounced from the sandbag wall and put three 12-guage rounds into the first target and another two in the second. Emptying his ammo drum, he switched to his sidearm and quickly eliminated the last of the targets. Straightening his back, he turned to Charles Douglas.

“Time?”

“13.8 seconds.”

Damn

“Hey thanks for staying up for this, I'll close shop.”

“That’s a good chap.” He responded in his accent before trudging off to bed.

Hemorrhage continued to act innocent until Douglas was out of sight. His turned and spoke into his earpiece. “Range is clear, rally up.”

“Copy.”

“10-4.”

Not long after, both Raptor and Thunderclap entered the range. Raptor wasted no time.

“So, what is all of this?”

“I think Manny is lying to us. I don’t know if Sarah is in on it or not but I'm gonna find out. I wanted you two to know.”

“Wait. Whose Sarah?”

Raptor face palmed before turning her head towards Thunderclap. “Dumbass!”

Hemorrhage just sighed. “Stryker. Stryker’s first name is Sarah.”

“Ohhhh. Okay.” He noticed that Raptor’s mouth was still open. “What?”

“You're unbelievable, you know that?”

“I know, I'm pretty awesome.”

“Oh for the love of fuck.” Raptor just shook her head.

“Hello? Either of you two here?” Waved his arms dramatically.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“I've done some recon of the med wing. You know what's interesting. Not a single nurse or doctor has gone into Stryker’s room for the last day-and-a-half. A bit weird for someone whose apparently unstable. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yeah, that’s a bit off.”

“Alright, before someone finds us down here, I'll let y'all go. But I'm gonna check her room tonight. See what's going on.”

“Alright, tell us what you find.”

“Of course.”

His team left and returned to their bunks. We was walking behind them before quickly slipping into the medical wing. It was very late; no doctors and only two nurses. They both looked up when he slipped into the room. What they saw was the barrel of a pistol with a silencer.

“Scream and I'll make sure your body is never found.”

Eyes wide with fear just nodded.

“What do you know about the agent that was given surgery after the takeover at the arena.”

“Umm. She. Umm.” The older nurse was shaking as she spoke. “She was, umm, released.”

“When?”

“We thought she rejoined you. Please, just don’t shoot us.”

“Who was the last person you saw talking to her?”

“Colonel Ortega.”

“What time was she released?”

The two nurses looked around for the time schedule before looking for the agent’s name. They both looked up to tell him. He wasn’t there anymore.

* * *

Walking to the bunk room, Hemorrhage was preparing to tell the news to his team.

They would confront Manny tomorrow.

Come hell or high water.


	16. The Beginning, Part 16

Sasha Knight had led an interesting life. She grew up in Fairfax County, not far from DC. After graduating high school, she joined the Virginia National Guard. By the age of 19, she had served a single tour in Afghanistan, although despite common belief, she had actually gone on only a few patrols outside of the base and participated in only a single bad firefight. She left with the rank of Sergeant.

Her unit had been in the US for a couple months before the virus hit. She, and all her brothers and sisters-in-arms, were immediately put under the control of the JTF; under the command of presidential appointee, Colonel Antwon Ridgeway. At first, she did her duty as any good soldier, but when the Colonel started to spiral out of control, she decided leave. Many of her battle buddies stayed. Since it all fell, she served as the tactical officer-in-chief for Manny Ortega. She had built a relationship with her superior and was loyal and believed in his hope. She would protect him at all costs.

But when three heavily armed and armored, experienced Strategic Homeland Division agents paraded towards his office with a look of determination, she knew she had no power to stop them. She followed them in as the leader kicked open the door.

“Colonel, you mind if we have a word?” Hemorrhage said in a tone, obvious to everyone, that wasn’t a question.

The colonel looked down.

“Sergeant Knight, close the door and keep all others out please.”

“Sir.”

As soon as they were alone in the room Manny sat down in his chair. “Please, sit.”

“I prefer standing.”

“Agent, while I did not address the way you so rudely kicked into my office or the insubordinate tone you took with me, do not believe for one moment that I am a pushover. Now sit your ass down before I make you.”

Hemorrhage grunted defiantly but sat in the chair opposite, nonetheless. Raptor and Thunderclap flanking him on both of his sides, still standing. Before Grant could even begin, he was cut off by his superior.

“I know why you're here. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not fucking blind or deaf. So before you even begin, don’t bat around the bush, what do you want?”

“You don’t want me to bat around the bush, fine. Where the fuck is our team leader?”

“Gone.”

Hemorrhage sat in silence before he realized that Manny was finished.

“Umm, how about you take the stick that has been stuck, ever, ever so firmly far up your ass, and take it out, and, I don’t know, ILLUMINATE WHAT THE FUCK YOU MEAN!”

“She isn’t here. She’s on a mission.”

“Alone? Manny, we’re a team, what if she’s in trouble or worse?”

“Let me ask you a question agent. When you and Alpha Tango go on missions or patrol, why do you think you don’t get attacked by outcasts?”

Jennifer and John-Francis looked at each other. They have been wondering why there was a lull in the fighting.

“Why do you think that our convoys or our western CP’s aren’t being attacked? I'll tell you why. Sarah has been killing them, interrogating them, and torturing them. The reason that outcasts have stopped is because they fear the reaper.”

Hemorrhage sat in silence as Manny picked up a comm piece.

“Big Penn to Reaper, how copy?”

“Reaper here, go ahead.”

Raptor and Thunderclap looked up with a smile on their faces as they heard their leader’s voice.

“Reaper, I'm here with your team, I'm afraid they caught on to our ruse.”

“Oh.”

“Mind enlightening them on what you did pre-virus?”

“Manny…”

“That’s an order agent.”

“…You all know I was an Army ranger. Well…well rangers are often assigned to CIA missions. And…well I…picked up some techniques from the CIA on how to get information from someone.”

Hemorrhage sat back in the chair defeated. While he had no trouble executing people in cold blood, he stood by his creed to never deliver more pain to a person than necessary. “Sarah…”

“Yes?”

“Why was this all kept a secret?” At this, he turned to Manny.

It was Manny’s turn to lean back in his chair. He was silent for a moment. “Goochland, Bagram, please excuse us for a moment.”

The two looked at each other before looking at Hemorrhage. Making eye contact, he nodded. They reciprocated the gesture and turned to leave. The room stayed in deafening silence until Manny heard the click of the door as it was closed. At that, he leaned forward.

“Remember your mission to the Jefferson Center?”

“Yes. Of course.” Hemorrhage was still sore about how that mission ended.

“Remember when ISAC reported that it had been remotely hacked?”

“Yes.”

“Well I began investigating and observing. Stryker and I came to the conclusion that there is some sort of fourth faction in play in DC.”

“What are you talking about?”

At this point, Stryker jumped in. “He means that someone is living in the shadows. Watching, waiting. When I first arrived in DC, I was patrolling the western side of the White House district when I came upon an echo. I shared it with Manny, and we decided we should keep it top-secret.”

“This mission that Sarah’s on, it’s more than just trying to intimidate the outcasts. We hoped that her black ops activities would lure out some in this faction. All she’s come to find is that she is under surveillance.”

As he wrapped up his sentence, Manny slid a small stack of reports and photos over to Grant. Manny continued as the agent quickly skimmed through the papers.

“Grant, until I decide differently, this is considered classified to the highest level. If I find out that your teammates know about this before I want them too, I will not hesitate to fry your ass. Understood?”

Hemorrhage just nodded. “Stryker, when are you…when are you done with your assignment?”

“Hopefully not too long now. I will rejoin the team by the time we assault the island.”

* * *

She was sitting on a lawn chair on a roof that overlooked Navy Hill, CP November Hotel. It was frayed and the threads were rough on her thighs. She missed the cold weather of New York City. People from the south often considered the DC Metropolitan Area to be from the “north” filled with lying politicians and the like. People from the north considered DC to be in the south, filled with no-good hillbillies that didn’t know what 2 + 2 was. Often making fun of the fact that they couldn’t handle the cold, just like their southern brethren who made fun of their “low heat tolerances”.

The truth was, in the summer, DC would be sweltering, anywhere from 80 degrees on a low day, anywhere up to 110 degrees on hot ones. That didn’t even consider the humidity, well above 90% no matter the weather, throughout the summer. In the winter, the hottest it would get would be around 40 degrees, laughable to most northern states, but when night fell, it would reach 0 or below, refreezing anything that melted during the day.

Stryker sat in the shade, unfortunately, the humidity didn’t give a rat’s ass. Her standard layout was a white shirt with some Kevlar padding on the shoulders and forearms, with some all-terrain pants tucked into steel toed boots. Being that she was only scouting today, she had opted instead for a tank top, short shorts, and some athletic shoes. Being a rather “curvy” woman, she abhorred the way the sweat gathered around her thighs, which made sitting even more uncomfortable.

She had just gotten off the phone with Manny and her second. She had never felt ashamed when she did a job, not when she was with the rangers or the CIA. But when Grant protested her behavior, she did feel it. If only a small part of her. She hated what she had become, desensitized to everything. When she was in New York, her team had to fight for everything, and when she lost scorcher, she finally broke. She had worked so hard to build herself up after her many tours and the virus just destroyed everything once again.

She didn’t have the heart to tell anyone that what she had done to the outcasts were considered level 1 of five different levels of torture. She was supposed to be scouting out the enemy control point, but she wasn’t paying attention very much. It was around 3 in the afternoon, she just packed up and left for her safehouse.

She got back to her small hideout and went to her cot. Just like every night for the past year, she cried herself to sleep. She didn’t know how much more she could take before she broke. Perhaps she already was. Soon, the only sound coming from her hideout was a soft, near-silent snore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My standard setup in the game is the; Security Expert Shirt, Midnight Pants, Hunter Boots, Hunter Neck guard or brown scarf, Aviator glasses, and a camouflage hat.


	17. The Beginning, Part 17

The DMV, not to be confused with everybody’s favorite sit and wait where you lay around for 3 billion years just to get an application for an extension on your temporary license. Right now, a pile of shit on the lowest level of Hell. DC, Maryland, and Virginia made up the DMV. Manny was from here.

Growing up in Annandale, VA, he had enjoyed many things growing up. Living in the one of the richest counties in not just Virginia, but the entire country. Raised and living in an area that has some of the best Wi-Fi in the world. It wasn’t until everything fell apart when people soon realized that it only took the will of one man to change the course of history. While the millions of engineers, scientists, politicians, and bureaucrats; soldiers, sailors, and airmen; policy makers, lobbyists, and other professions may have excelled in this area at some point. When you have to survive, defend yourself, and hope that you see the next sunrise, it puts everything into perspective.

When he wasn’t working, which were moments few and far between, Manny enjoyed sitting in his office, looking out of the Blue Room in the White House. One of his favorite things to do when visiting the city proper, was to tour the National Mall. His favorite monuments were the Vietnam Veterans Memorial and the Korean War Memorial. He remembered as he would walk around the latter, early in the morning, so early in fact that he was able to beat the morning traffic. The morning fog would still be around, and the statues of the Korean War soldiers looked like ghosts in the mist.

His father would take him to one of the many hundreds of food trucks scattered around the mall and purchase a funnel cake. He could still remember the sweetness of the sugar, and the massive amounts of oil grease left on the paper holding it.

Things changed so fast. Although his skills as a leader were recognizable, he would be the first to admit that the sole reason for his stature was simple attrition. He had lived longer than most. Whenever he finally laid down his head for some rest, he would often ask himself if the things that he’d ordered, the missions that, in an otherwise normal life be considered next to war crimes, if he had done the right thing. Looking out the window to the Washington Monument to the south, he reached his conclusion.

He had done these things so the next generation of Johns, Peggys, Marks, and others would grow up free and safe to walk around, look at memorials, and eat a goddamn funnel cake.

For the United States of America, he would sacrifice anything.

* * *

The small flecks of concrete and gravel made indents in the skin around her knee. Painful to a child, but to her, nothing. Kneeling in front of a small fire, Sarah slowly stirred a can of baked beans, just enough to get it warmed up. The fire, however small it was, increased the already unbearable temperature in the room up a notch. She sacrificed her comfort for warm beans. She did not understand how the British could eat them cold.

Falling over on her butt, she retrieved her spoon to start.

She had just lapped up the last of the can when her comm piece beeped.

“Big Penn to Reaper, how copy?”

Grunting as she stood up, she walked over to her cot. Standing over it, she picked up her piece and placed it in her ear.

“Go ahead, Big Penn.”

“You’ve done all that you can, get back to Rallypoint Omaha, we have work to do.”

“10-4, Reaper out.”

Taking the earpiece out again, she set about to get ready. Only in daisy dukes, a bra, and some sneakers, she first took off her shorts and pulled on her pants, buckling her thigh holster when she finished. She kicked off her sneakers and slid into her combat boots. Peeling off her bra, relishing the moment of freedom of being topless before she slipped into a fresh brassiere she kept in her bag and put on her shirt right after.

She grabbed her chest plate and hoisted it over her head, allowing it to fall in place. She had seen it one too many times during tours, so she picked up her neck guard and strapped it in place, it could protect against knives and small caliber pistols. To complete her look, she retrieved the tin of camouflage makeup and applied three, diagonal streaks to her face. Holstering her Tactical X-45, she grabbed her M4A1 rifle and slung it to her bag.

Picking up her Tactical M700 rifle, she left the safety of her hideout, and set out for the White House.

* * *

Sarah had been walking for just over an hour at a relaxed but steady pace. She got to the intersection of F and 20th when she came across a situation. Hearing a commotion just before, she ran up to a parked, white delivery truck. Peering around the corner, she looked through her scope. Before her, she saw a small patrol of Outcasts. Two Assaults, one Thrower, and one that had a makeshift flamethrower. It appeared that one of the Assault’s had some extra armor.

Must be a veteran leader.

Quickly, she retrieved her cluster Seeker Mine. So as not to alert them, she put it down and then used her SHD contact lens to target them remotely. Rolling forth with singular purpose, the mine suddenly broke into its different, smaller brethren. The thrower lost his foot as he was flown into the air, dead before he hit the ground. The normal assault was sent flying into a wall from the concussive force of his blast, cracking his neck. With all her padding, the one with the flamethrower did not die from the blast, but her fuel tank had been hit from the explosion and she shot up like a fucking bottle rocket into the sky.

The veteran Outcast was left standing. Damaged, but standing.

Always one piece of shit left.

Taking aim, she calmly tracked the Outcast as he ran behind a pillar. She waited as she expected him to take some pot shots. He didn’t though.

Clever little fuck.

It had turned into a waiting game. Stryker quickly swapped cover to a concrete “bucket” on the sidewalk used to hold flowers or small plants, the shade from the overhanging building gave her eyes a break from the strong sun.

“You're gonna die fucker!”

The Outcast ran to a different cover, just avoiding the round that would’ve found its home in his heart.

“Fuck.” Stryker muttered under her breathe.

Think Sarah, think.

Than an idea struck her. Although her Seeker was really only effective against multiple targets, this Outcast didn’t know that.

Taking another Seeker out of the pouch, she threw it underhanded over the cover that he was hiding behind.

“Shit!”

He stood up. As soon as the tone of flesh had jumped into her scope, she took the shot. The Outcast screamed in pain as a .300 Win Mag tore through his soft flesh on his left arm, the shock wave alone was powerful enough to knock him down on his ass in pain.

Slinging her rifle around, she grabbed her pistol, slowly approaching the injured enemy. Quickly looking around the corner, she noticed his AK-M laying just out of reach for him. She turned the corner and stepped on his hand as it tried to grab the weapon. Although she had been in countless battles, she’d never actually done it before, only seeing it in action movies.

“Fuck you!”

Sarah stood over him as he continued to hurl insults at her. She finally had enough.

“Hey!” Quickly shutting him up.

“Have you people ever thought of not being assholes? Seriously, you worse than the goddamn Hyenas for fuck’s sake.”

“You don’t know what we went through! Herded like cattle! Treated worse! It’s the True Sons and the Division’s fault that we were!”

“First off, no. you're a goddamn idiot. Let me guess, that bitch Shaw told you that, huh.”

The Outcast just stared at her.

“And second, GET THE FUCK OVER IT! Take a good goddamn look around you, you fucking inept troglodyte. Fine, you were treated terribly, okay, cool. If you didn’t fucking notice, everyone is going through some shit. You are not the only ones whose whole lives were destroyed from the virus!”

“But…”

Before he continued, he was cut off again. “And you people slaughtering innocents because they what? Didn’t fight back against the very much armed and murderous True Sons? If that’s the reason, why the fuck didn’t you fight back?!”

Finishing her rant, she put a .45 round into his right arm too.

Screaming out in pain, he watched through teary eyes as she knelt down next to him and put her mouth near his left ear. She quietly whispered into it.

“I'm going to leave you. You will know what it is like to fear, what it is like as your life is taking away so unjustifiably.”

With that, Sarah stood up and put another round into each of his legs, walked behind him and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. Starting to drag him to a nearby manhole, she spoke.

“You know, the Underground are very violent. Unlike you or me, they don’t fight for some ideological reason, but for blood and stuff. You ever seen one of ‘em fuckers with a chainsaw? I have. I even heard they were cannibals.”

Peering down into the sewer, she turned and saw the fear growing in his eyes. The realization that with his wounds he won't be able to climb back out of the sewer.

“They live down in these sewers. When they find you, say hi to them for me, won't you?”

Before he could resist, he could feel as she looped a rope around his torso, slowly, she lowered him down the manhole.

At the bottom, he felt a little tension in the rope, than none. A second later, the rest of the rope fell on his face, he realized the end was frayed. She had just cut the rope.

Turning as he heard voices further down the sewer, his eyes like saucers as he trembled in true fear.

“What was that?”

“I don’t know, let's go check it out.”

“I hope it’s another person, I'm getting hungry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know about anyone else, but when I play, I always forget that I have grenades. Oh and also remember to leave a review. Or don't. Whatever, it isn't like the world is falling apart. Hell, go out and do something, we don't know how long any of has left.


	18. The Beginning, Part 18

“Breaker-Breaker Two-Niner, how copy?”

“Breaker-Breaker Two-Niner here, we’ve finished setting up and getting a good look, over.”

“Understood, Omaha Actual out.”

Manny disconnected from the two sniper teams being set up, one at the Kennedy Center and one at the Watergate Hotel.

This was it. For the last couple of weeks, the Division, alongside of the United Militia, had beaten the Outcasts down. Now was time for the finishing move.

In accordance with military affairs, he had dubbed this particular mission, ‘Operation: Fervent Dawn’. Objective? Hunt down and eliminate the Outcast high command. Standing, facing the wall of monitors in the East Room of the White House, Manny and Lieutenant McAllister were running the show from here.

Looking at his watch, he read the digital, LED, numerals.

6:28

It was time. The sun was just about to come up. The Outcasts would be just wakening, stirring from their slumber. For most of them, it would by their last sunrise.

“Captain, get the entire assault force on the line, we’re about ready to commence.” Manny ordered an Army officer.

* * *

Like ghosts in the wind, Alpha Tango, moved west across the city, silent, deadly, efficient. They had left the White House around midnight and were aiming to be at the Roosevelt Bridge by 5:45.

The team had made it to Control Point Tango Golf. It used to be a service station for taxis, now, the launching point of the assault. Participants? Eleven Division agents from Alpha Tango, Bravo Tango, and a small patrolling team. Around one-hundred militiamen from the Campus and the Theater. Finally, they had some air support in an armored, UH-60L Black Hawk helicopter with gunner-manned M134 Gatling Gun. In addition, they also had a civilian helicopter. It wasn’t originally armed or armored of course, but after some jury-rigging and additions, it would pass in a pinch.

Rolling up her sleeve just slightly, Raptor, who had taken the lead, looked at her watch.

6:29

It was just about time.

* * *

“Sir, you're patched in.”

“Thank you.” Grabbing his headset, he put it over his head. “Attention members of the Division, of the Militia. For far too long, the Outcasts have had free reign over this part of the city. No longer. You all know what we are doing. You have all drilled and trained for weeks. The time has come.”

Taking a deep breathe, he began again.

“We've all gone over the plan. Alpha Tango will insert covertly, and when it’s time, they will signal with a flare. Stand ready. We’ll see each other on the other side. Effective immediately, Captain McClanahan will have tactical authority in the field.”

“Alpha Tango…you're a go.”

With that, Manny steadied himself for what would be his most stressful mission to date.

* * *

Raptor waved her hand in a ‘chopping’ movement, signaling for the rest of the team to move up. They had just received their orders to move from Manny.

Stryker took the lead with Hemorrhage just behind her. Thunderclap took up just after them and Raptor took the rearguard.

“I count five hostiles; three assaults, one grenadier, and one rusher. Raptor take the grenadier, Thunderclap, you got the assaults, Hemorrhage, you take the rusher, I'll support. Ready?”

After receiving a curt nod from each one, Stryker turned back around.

“Open fire.”

The Outcasts, being the extreme vanguard were caught totally unprepared. The rusher had exploded, taking another two with him. They mopped up the entire engagement in less than five seconds.

“On me.”

Stryker darted forward.

Alpha Tango had reached the other side of the bridge with no other hostiles in sight. Ahead of them, Thunderclap saw a downed Air Force plane.

“Eh boss, up ahead. Looks like a C-5 Galaxy, huh?”

“Nah, that has to be a C-17 Globemaster.” Raptor responded.

“It'll be next to impossible if we don’t see the wings.” Hemorrhage commented.

“Can it. We have a job to do. Hemorrhage, take point.”

“Copy.”

* * *

“Ya know…I’m getting real goddamn-tired of these fuckers!”

Raptor was surprised by Cooch’s outburst. The team had met heavy resistance going up the western coast of the island. They had stalled when wave after wave of the ‘fuckers’ bogged them down by a vegetable farm.

“Sarah! It’s time!”

Looking at Grant, Stryker knew it to be true. “Cover me!” Sarah ran back from her front-line position and took up a new one behind a small shack.

Let's hope this works.

Taking out a flare gun, she took little time to aim it skyward and pull the trigger.

* * *

“Sir! A drone is picking up a flare!” McAllister reported.

Putting the mic into position by his lips, Manny prepared to give the order.

“Omaha Actual to militia. GO! GO! GO!”

* * *

Captain McClanahan turned and began shouting orders.

The Militia flew into a frenzy. The members that were assigned to speedboats were already on their way across the Potomac. Overhead, they could hear the scream of the two Heli’s fly over them, prepared to land more. The main force sprinted across the bridge. They would take the eastern coast and cut the Outcasts off in a pincer movement.

The time of the Outcasts was done.


	19. The Beginning, Part 19

**Okay, let's get one thing fucking straight. I am sick and tired of people, especially brits for some reason, pronouncing the Potomac river like (Pot-awww-mak) pot as in cooking pot**

**…NO!**

**It is pronounced like (Putt-oh-mic) putt as in butt**

* * *

Silent.

That’s what most would call the early morning.

There was a stillness in the air. It did not help with the already unbearable stickiness in the air, a product of it being summer in a city built on a fucking swamp. One might hear an owl or a raccoon. Before the world went to shit, they might have heard taxis or emergency sirens.

All this, if it weren’t for a massive battle playing out in the middle of the Potomac.

One could see the explosions all the way from the U.S Air Force Memorial, overlooking Arlington National Cemetery. The sheer noise from the battle easily drowned out any attempt at hearing the communications of the two warring parties.

* * *

“Agents get to the dock! We can't let Shaw escape the island.” Manny ordered.

“Please, that is one thing I WILL not allow.” Responded Sarah.

* * *

“Ma’am! We need to get you out of here!” Screamed an outcast tank.

Emeline Shaw began sprinting to an escape boat.

* * *

“Breaker-Breaker Two-Niner, do you have eyes on target?” Manny questioned.

“Negative! Negative!”

* * *

“Sir, the drones are having a tough time locking on targets with all the explosions!”

“Come on, come one, come on.” Manny silently urged on, praying for his team.

* * *

“Watch out!” John-Francis screamed out as he hefted his machine gun into place and put rounds down range. Suppressing any return fire.

“Raptor, take Hemorrhage and flank ‘em!”

“Copy! Let's go man!”

Exiting cover, Stryker put two pore rounds into the heads of two more outcasts.

Returning to cover, her comm piece blared to life.

* * *

“Agents! This is Boat 3! We have eyes on Shaw, she just got into a speed boat!”

“Damnit! See if you can delay them!”

“Copy!”

Turning to his friends, Corey Reynolds barked orders.

“Get the gun ready! J, get some more ammo.”

“Wher-”

“It’s just behind me here!” Cutting him off.

* * *

“Ma’am get down!” An outcast yelled.

He was soon cut down by a flail of gunfire.

“Get this thing on the water now!”

“I'm trying! I'm tryin-”

“He’s dead!”

“Let's go!”

* * *

“Be advised agents. Shaw just got her boat on the water; you need to hurry!” Cindy McAllister told Alpha Tango.

“Copy! On the move!”

Alpha Tango sprinted towards the east coast of the island. Killing a massive Outcast, they finally reached the coast.

They were too late.

“Look! She’s right there!” Lifting her finger, Jennifer pointed out to the water.

“Goddamnit!”

* * *

“Agents, we have her in our sights! Taking her”

“Negative Boat 3, fall back, we lost this one.” Manny intercepted.

“No, no, we got this!”

* * *

Alpha Tango, standing useless on the beach, could do nothing but look in horror as Shaw’s boat launched an RPG and blew up Boat 3.

Sarah was more than pissed.

“Boss. Come on, let's go.” Hemorrhage said.

Stryker, finally tearing her eyes from the disappearing boat on the horizon, looked Hemorrhage in the eye. “Let's go? What the fuck just happened Grant?”

“We lost. Okay? We lost. It’s time to lick our wounds.”

Raptor and Thunderclap turned and left for the bridge. Hemorrhage turned and followed them. Taking out her pistol, Stryker put four rounds into the head of an already-dead outcast.

* * *

“What's our losses?” Shaw questioned one of her aides.

“We’re still taking reports, but it seems to be that we suffered almost 60% casualty rate. What do we do now?”

“Now? Now we rebuild. Now we take the fight directly to the Division.”

Shaw didn’t know that they would take it to her first.

* * *

“Boss. Petrus is reporting that the Division took the Outcast’s island.”

“Good. I didn’t expect them to be so useful. Has our informant checked in yet?”

“Negative. Any new orders to give him?”

“No. Tell them to keep playing their part.”

“Yes sir. Anything else?”

“Dismissed.”

“Sir.” The man saluting before closing the door.


	20. Julius Caesar and Mark Antony, Part 1

Alan Finger once said, “If you don’t have the awareness of oneness, duality becomes real.”

Sarah was praying to any Divine that existed that she was aware of her ‘oneness.’ She never thought that she’d find comfort in the tiny stall of a shower in the Base of Operations. Knowing that the soothing hot water would soon end, she made sure to savor the almost sweet feeling against her skin. She had long gotten over the lack of beautifying products in this world, instead taking gratitude in the homemade soap sent from the Campus.

“Sarah! You in here?” She heard Jennifer call out.

“Yeah. In number 3.”

“Manny called a meeting. It starts in five minutes. He said don’t be late.”

“Thanks. I'll be there.”

Hearing the door close, she turned off the water and leaned her head against the shower wall. Sighing, she pulled the curtain open and grabbed her clothes.

“This should be fun.” Sarah sarcastically told herself.

* * *

“How is she?” Grant questioned Jennifer.

“Sounded tired.” Leaving it at that, she left for the Blue Room. Grant following not far behind.

Going through the door, Grant observed Alani leaning against some comm equipment to the right, Manny was standing straight ahead. Agent Reed was looking out of a window, picking at a bag of trail mix.

“Where’s Gooch’ and Sarah?”

“Here boss.” Gooch’ responded as he came through the door. “Sarah was on her way up the stairs an-”

“I'm here, let's get going.”

Grant looked at Manny before he started the meeting.

“After a staff meeting along with a one-on-one with the President, I have decided to move forward.”

“In what way?” Sarah quickly asked.

“Although we failed to capture or kill Emeline Shaw, we still dealt a serious blow to the outcasts. Hell, it’s been two days and we haven’t even received reports of any attacks.”

“You know that’s only temporary, right.”

“I am aware of the implication Agent Bagram, but we need to get ahead of this while we can.”

“So what? We’re aren’t going after Emeline?”

While it was constructed as a question, the tone was obvious to everyone.

“Sarah…we can't go running after a person we don’t even know the location of.”

“Then I'll go by myself. Take a small go-bag and leave now.”

“Sarah, we can't afford one of our best agents and team leaders on a fool’s errand.”

The meeting was quickly turning into a shouting match and the rest of the occupants began moving away. Towards the walls.

“The fuck you talking about ‘Fool’s errand’? As soon as she finds a suitable location, she’s gonna build up until it’s too late!”

“Hey, don’t mean to be rude or anything, but, WE DON’T KNOW WHERE SHE IS! We can't just send people after a fucking ghost!”

“Watch me!” Turning, Sarah started out the door.

“Agent! If you leave the White House premises for this, consider your agent status revoked!”

Stopping midtrack, she turned back; the others were now completely silent.

“Excuse me?”

“If you go after Shaw, you will be considered going Rogue and all ISAC support will cease.”

The room was quiet. “Please…Sarah?”

It was too late when Grant noticed her hand drifting to her watch. A second later, a mild EMP blasted the room. The agents in the room all groaned as the ISAC watched shocked a little. In less than three seconds, Sarah slid over the table, slammed Manny against a wall and held a blade to his throat.

“Sarah! Drop it!”

Grant had recovered and raised his pistol. Just after, the door slammed open and two Marines ran in, weapons raised.

“Boss! Don’t do this!” Gooch’ raised his pistol as well.

“BE ADVISED, KILLING INDIVIDUAL; MANUAL ORTEGA, WILL RESULT IN YOUR IMMEDIATE ROGUE DESIGNATION.” ISAC reported.

Reed and Kelso had their sidearms up at this point.

“Come on Sarah. Don’t do this.” While he wasn’t afraid to die, for some reason, at this point he cared more about Sarah and her future than his life.

“It would be so easy.” Sarah whispered in his ear.

In one fluid motion, Sarah stepped away and dropped the knife. The sound echoed off the walls. There was an audible sigh of relief.

“You wanna focus of the True Son’s? Fine.”

Turning she walked to the door.

“Sar-”

“Fuck off.” Cutting off Grant.

She disappeared in the stairwell.

“That went well.”

* * *

Ten minutes into real meeting, the group was talking about strategy when Sasha Knight in.

“Sir, Agent Collins has left the perimeter!”

Manny slammed his fist. “Goddamnit Sarah!”

“I'll get’er sir.” Grant offered.

“Go.”

Grant sprinted out, grabbed his bag and weapons and followed Sarah’s ISAC watch.

Come ‘on Sarah. Where you going?”


	21. Julius Caesar and Mark Antony, Part 2

**I would love to work on this more but Jesus... If you have friends studying in STEM, give' em a hug, they need it.**

* * *

Resting against a stone pillar south of the White House, Grant stopped to catch his breathe. Looking down at his watch, he continued to track his team leader. She was heading due east, toward the capital building. Grant just hoped she wasn’t going to do anything stupid.

Collecting his final thoughts, he set out again.

* * *

“Where do think she’s going?”

John-Francis turned to Jennifer.

“Who?”

“You autistic orangutan. Fucking Sarah moron.”

She felt a little bad over her outburst when Gooch’s face turned into something resembling hurt, but in her defense, who the fuck else could she be talking about. Fucking Abraham Lincoln?

“She’s just probably running somewhere to blowoff some steam. While I don’t condone her behavior, she put more effort into the mission than arguably any other person. I think she just feels cheated.”

“Huh, good point. I was scared that she wouldn’t back down back in the room. What?”

Gooch’ was looking at the unopened candy bar in her hand.

“Ya gonna eat that?”

“Sonofbitch.” She muttered under her breathe. “Here, it’s all yours.”

“Thanks. I'll be hanging by Amaya in the basement if you need me. Need to adjust my sights, got knocked around during the battle.”

“10-4.”

With that, they went their separate ways.

* * *

“Fucking Division. Those goddamn traitors need to be shot. Hell, I think it should be carried out slower.”

“Shut up McCowski, you were literally a failing Police Cadet before the outbreak. You ain't know shit. Get back to work.”

Master Sergeant Graves was getting tired of this jackass that was assigned to his team yesterday. I mean I know during a pandemic beggars can't be choosers but fucking seriously? Graves was surprised the kid hadn’t shot himself yet. It wasn’t until last night the kid even heard about the Division. Graves had only encountered them once before and it was the scariest fucking thing he’d seen.

“Hey Sarge?”

“What is it Rivieras?”

“It’s cold.”

“…that’s it? Seriously? Get back to work before I take that shiny rifle of yours and shove it up where the sun don’t shine.”

“Yes Sergeant!”

“Fuck me.”

William Graves had seen many things. He was among the increasing-minority of the True Son’s that had genuine experience and training, serving in Afghanistan. He was assigned to train new recruits of the Son’s. A job he hated but knew how important it was. He was practical, he was intelligent, and he was a self-named patriot. When he followed Ridgeway, he did it because he didn’t know Ridgeway had been court-marshaled. He just knew he was at some point appointed to contain the virus in the Capitol. It wasn’t until too late that he found out the truth, but at that point he stayed for simple survival and brotherhood.

But he was getting tired of it. He always took the missions that would avoid civilians because he refused to follow the shoot-on-sight policy. These were Americans goddamnit.

“Sir, take a look.” Corporal Tan pointed north, down 9th Street. At first, he didn’t see it through the heavy rain, but he soon saw figures come into view.

“Positions! Be ready for anything!”

His team, officially known as Bison Squad, McKinley’s Company, soon took positions.

Finally, the figures came into view. Civilians. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“Safety off.” Remarked Corporal Tan.

Finishing his sentence, Graves soon heard clicks from the other True Son’s.

“Stand down. Now!” He called out.

“Sir?”

“I will not have you fire on innocent civilians.”

“Please sir, with due respect, they aren’t innocent. How do we know that they just didn’t kill someone else for water or food?”

Tan was the only other member of his team who had any remote experience, serving as an undercover cop pre-pandemic.

“So your solution it to fire without question? They aren’t fucking rabid dogs Tan, they're Americans.”

“With respect, General Ridgeway as ordered tha…”

“It is the duty of all respectable members of the US Armed Forces to disobey an unlawful order. Now stand down. Now.”

“Can't do that sir.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Sir, I am hereby placing you under arrest.”

Tan didn’t get the chance to raise his rifle before Graves had his head between in M9 sights.

“Tan, don’t do this.”

“Soldiers, arrest Sergeant Graves now.”

McCowski started toward him. Feigning surrender, Graves acted, as if he would let him of all people do this. Kicking his feet out from under him, he punched him twice in the head before going for a gut shot at Specialist Favreau. It was too late when he felt the heavy hit of a rifle but against his head and was knocked unconscious.

He awoke later, having no idea how long it was, though he was still in the place his squad was. He felt like his legs were trembling. His heart was pounding. Turning his head, what he saw horrified him. Bodies of civilians lined up with bullet holes in them. Some of his squad was laughing and smoking over them. Fucking Animals. Turning, he saw his rifle up against the building’s wall. The stupid fuckers hadn’t even tied up his hands. For once, he was glad of the ineptitude of his True Son’s

He heard the sound of Tan’s voice.

“He up yet?”

He quickly assumed his original position and closed his eyes and slowed his breathing.

“Hasn’t stirred yet sir. What do we do with these two?”

“Make’ em dig their own graves.”

“Sir.” Before picking up some shovels.

Graves heard them walk away before he once again opened his eyes.

Sitting up, he went to the corner of the building and looked past. His entire team was laughing at the civilians attempting to dig their own graves.

He had a plan.

Grabbing his rifle, he once again returned to the corner. Unfortunately, Tan had other ideas.

“Hazel, go get another shovel and help’ em.”

Quickly going back into cover, he grabbed a sharp piece of class. As soon as Hazel turned the corner, Graves grabbed him and covering his moth, stabbed him multiple times in the throat. he silently laid down his body and grabbed an extra clip from his vest and his combat knife.

“Hazel! Come on man!”

Without hesitation, he turned the corner and took one more breathe before he condemned himself from the True Son’s.

Pulling the trigger, he expertly put two rounds into three True Son’s. Tan and McCowski turned around in shock.

“Stop right there! Now!”

Both put up their hands. The civilians were now just wide-eyed in shock.

“You two, get outta here and run. Go!”

They quickly climbed out of the graves and ran west, down the Mall.

“You'll be shot for this Matthew."

"We’ve lost ourselves. Come with me.”

“You know I can do that.” His hand was crawling towards his holstered pistol.

“Don’t do it man. Do not grab that.”

Tan pulled his M9 out fast, but Graves was quicker. Putting two rounds into him, ironically falling into one of the graves he was forcing them to dig.

All that was left was McCowski.

“Sir. You're a traitor!”

“To whom?”

McCowski sputtered in indignation.

“I'm sorry.” McCowski didn’t have time to ask what for before he too was shot dead.

“Fuck!”

_**Click** _

Turning around lightening quick, he aimed his rifle westward. He saw a Division agent pointing what looked like an X-45. Oh just perfect. It was known in the True Son’s that just as they opened fire on civilians, the Division opened fire on the True Son’s.

It was a fearsome sight. Angling their torso away from him, aiming one handed as well. Covered from head-to-toe in black and camouflage. He couldn’t discern their gender as they had a breathing mask on and a beanie on. Their eyes were bright and imposing, commanding authority.

“Umm, parley?” Graves asked half-jokingly and half-terrified. The reference from a movie about pirates in the Caribbean Sea.

The agent turned their eyes just slightly to view the dead bodies of his former comrades before focusing back on him. Like a predator and their prey.


	22. Julius Caesar and Mark Antony, Part 3

Jennifer didn’t know what to think of John-Francis. He was an able warrior and a loyal agent of the United States, but there was something else that grabbed her attention and she couldn’t put her finger on it. Peering around the corner, she observed him as he polished his beloved M240 SAW, his true love. How he put so much attention into the very small parts of his day.

She had read somewhere that men have the ability to think about nothing and that women didn’t, that was how men could do things as mind-numbing as fish or stare at a TV for so long. She wondered if this was the same. Telling herself to stop being a creep, she tore herself away from the wall and returned to her bunk.

* * *

William Graves felt like a deer in the headlights. The mysterious agent still had their crosshairs on him but hadn’t pulled the trigger yet. Scanning mystery-agent, Graves deduced that they wouldn’t kill him…yet.

All their equipment was black, from the kneepads to the holster to the backpack. The holster in particular was bulky piece. Just positioned in from of the holster itself was a sheath for a small knife, whether it was for throwing or handheld he could not deduce. Around their thigh was numerous ammo pouches full of magazines for what looked like a rifle that shot 5.56 rounds, a weapon that looked to be slung around their back

The torso armor was what stood out the most, it looked beefy. It looked like an RPG could hit center mass and they would still remain standing. Besides the pistol currently aimed at his head and the rifle, there seemed to be a massive sniper rifle being carried as well. it looked like it fired .300 Winchester Magnum rounds, but he couldn’t tell to tell the truth.

When it spoke, it startled him.

“Why?”

Graves just stood there, not quite sure what it meant.

The agent fired off a round just inches from above his head and re-aligned it with his forehead.

“Why?”

“They…they were gonna kill those civ’s, so I stopped them.”

The agent just nodded, almost as if that was the answer they were expecting. Graves had no doubt now that the agent had watched the whole thing go down.

Returning the pistol to its original place, the agent slung their sniper rifle around and nodded at him again.

“Grab your gear, let's go.”

Graves was dumbfounded. Not only had the agent not killed him, now it wanted him to follow.

“What the hell.” He resigned.

* * *

Grant had been walking for nearly three hours at this point. Suddenly, two civilians bounded towards him from the street.

“Hey. Hey! What's going on?”

“We were stopped by the True Son’s and they killed most of our group. Then all of a sudden, one them killed the others and told us to run!”

“Go on get.”

They sprinted off in the direction he had come from.

Their account peaked his interest. The True Sons were die-hard loyal, were there finally some who began to see the error in their ways?

Moving up the block, he came to what had to have been the scene of the incident. Quickly closing the eyelids and folding their arms nice and neat, Grant wished the dead civilians peace in the next life. The True Son’s bodies is what grabbed his viewpoint. Looked to be a whole squad. Wonder where that shooter is?

RECONTRUCTING ECHO NEARBY. ONE MOMENT. RECONSTRUCTION COMPLETE.

Pressing his Shade Watch, he watched the scene playout.

The majority of the echo was true to what the civilians told him. However, at the end of it, there was a mysterious figure threatening the shooter. He knew exactly what it was.

Sarah.

* * *

“I'll be back, reporting to the Colonel.” Lorena Michaels told her compatriot.

“Roger. Lunch after?”

“Sure, I'll have them ring the PA when I'm done.”

Walking out of the East Wing where the research station was, Lorena Michaels, a software engineer and former DIA analyst, steered towards the Colonel’s office. Outside was his newly promoted personal aide-de-camp, Sasha Knight. She didn’t know her that well, but she had some run ins with her. She seemed like good people.

“The Colonel asked to see me.”

“One moment.”

Knocking on the door and entering before closing it behind her, Lorena heard voices behind the door then what sounded like an affirmative. Not two seconds later, Sasha walked out.

“He’ll see you now.”

“Thank you.”

Walking through the door, she saw the Colonel behind a desk. He was looking through some papers. On the table in the center of the room was a large map of DC and numerous toys and trinkets on it. Back on his desk, there was a landline that she assumed connected to any other department in the Base, depending on what he needed. Whether that be munitions, maintenance, or some other group.

There was a whiteboard above him with the schedules of what looked like patrols and strike teams. On the lower left-hand side of the desk was a half-eaten protein bar.

“Ms. Michaels. Thank you for coming.”

“Of course Colonel. As requested I have drawn up a report on the Division’s servers that were under the Jefferson Trade Center.” As she handed over the typed report.

“Anything of extreme note?”

“Actually, yes. I analyzed the server and its software defenses. I worked DIA pre-virus and our servers can withstand the full weight of Chinese or Russian hackers for months. Colonel, quite frankly, the Division’s servers make our defenses look like the Berlin Wall in the 1990s. The fact that is was tampered with shows either two different options in my mind.”

Nodding his head, he signaled her to continue.

“Sir, either they had hacking technology that has never been seen before, or they, whoever ‘they’ are, had someone from the inside get them in. in my humble opinion, I lean more toward the latter; even with new technology it would have taken some time.”

Surprisingly, the Colonel just nodded almost to himself, as if he was expecting that.

“Thank you Ms. Michaels. Is this everything?”

“My team has gone through 97% of the server data. If there is anything else, I will be sure to notify you.”

“Thank you. Dismissed.”

“Sir.”

Manny watched Lorena Michaels leave his office. Standing, he walked over to the window and stared out, something he had started to do when he was stressed.

“Goddamnit.”

Someone was trying to take down the Division. He’d be damned if he allowed it.


End file.
